


The Planets Bend Between Us

by Chiisanafukuro (makuro)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Friends to Lovers, Galra Culture, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Sheith Big Bang 2019, galra bonds, greasy street sandwiches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 48,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21981517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuro/pseuds/Chiisanafukuro
Summary: Sometimes the curving paths of life intersect and cross, like planets bending to the siren call of the universe's pull, so too do we pull together.Shiro and Keith don't know what they need, but they find each other.
Relationships: Allura/Lance/Lotor (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Kolivan/Krolia (Voltron), Past Adam/Shiro
Comments: 23
Kudos: 149
Collections: Sheith Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been pinging around in my head for a while and the Big Bang was a perfect opportunity to get it together. 
> 
> This was my first Bang and I'm so excited to share this work and the AMAZING companion pieces my artist partner did for it! 
> 
> Find them here in full: [@existence_proof](https://twitter.com/existence_proof/status/1210685278869835779?s=20)
> 
> Title of fic is from the song of the same name by Snow Patrol [The Planets Bend Between Us](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmpehYvQxk0).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crack the shutters open wide, I want to bath in you the light of day. 
> 
> -[Crack The Shutters, Snow Patrol](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhK81hZj4L4)

A star from aboard an intergalactic cruiser was a breathtaking sight no matter how many times you skirted past one on a journey. The solar flares and stunning array of light and color was unlike any display in the universe. One could see hundreds, millions of stars from an observation deck and still be awestruck by each one. 

The minute one of those stars became a sun, bearing down with heat and too bright light though, the whole enterprise could fuck right off. 

“I thought it was perpetually twilight-esque cloudy here?” Shiro hauled his backpack up onto his shoulder again, his sweat-soaked shirt becoming briefly cool as the straps shifted from where they had been. 

Beside him Sam Holt tutted. “It’s the high season, Shiro. Both suns in the sky and brighter than ever. Lucky time of year to be here too! Festivals abound and tournaments, not to mention the countless nuptial celebrations for the Princess and Prince.”

“And their errant consort,” Shiro snorted. 

It had been a shock and delight to both Daibazaal and Altea when Crown Prince Lotor and Crown Princess Allura made public their relationship and intent to marry. Whole Galaxies had succumbed to the wedding fervor, talk shows obsessing over the Princess’s every fashion choice and dissecting each of Lotor’s purchases and meetings. It was enough that Shiro had stopped turning the news on at all, and avoided most social networking sites just to get a break from it all. 

That was until his ex-husband, not long before their own marriage crumbled, had poked him in the ribs and said, “Hey, wasn’t he one of your mentees at the Garrison?” 

And lo, there was Lance Espinosa, recent Junior Ambassador appointee, sprawled over Prince Lotor’s lap with his tongue down his throat. Shiro immediately felt the tugs of another intergalactic war on the rise, calls to duty ringing in his ears. 

“Oh, well… huh… look at that.”

Shiro had looked back at the screen at Adam’s prompting to see the picture panning over to the Princess, smiling at the pair very coyly. Pleased. _Definitely_ in on the show. 

Lance had quickly been stripped of his position and many, many cultures became vocal on their views of polyamory—both for and against. Earth, still a monogamy leaning planet, was trying to get over the embarrassment of an affair. 

“Leave Lance alone,” Sam said, dragging Shiro back to the present. “He fell in love, with two incredible people I might add, and we can’t judge him too harshly for that.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of the man only six months out of a divorce, Sam.” It still stung, even if Shiro had seen it coming for a year before the papers did. Somehow he’d convinced himself that the growing chasm between him and Adam would magically bridge on its own. It had not, and Adam had served him papers only a few weeks after Lance’s story broke the news cycle. 

“You can’t keep using that as an excuse to be a spoilsport, Shiro. I know it’s been rough, but you said it yourself, you’re out here to have a fresh start away from it all.” Sam gave him a meaningful look that made Shiro wince. 

He readjusted his backpack again. Sweat was starting to form along the edges of his hair. “I know. It feels a little self-serving to be here, on Daibazaal, doesn’t it though?” 

Sam tilted his head. “Why? Because of the battle?” 

Shiro hummed, feeling his face flush at the mention of it and his arm twinge in phantom pain. The new prosthetic couldn’t feel a lot in the pain department, more cold or heat, pressure, and texture, but it sure loved to remind him of the pain of losing the arm in Sendak’s arena. “Apparently I got a bit of a reputation here after it. The little Terran who held his own sort of thing.” Shiro explained it sheepishly, still uncomfortable with how the Galra had reacted to his capture and subsequent part in the uprising. 

Sam patted him on the back. “It’ll be fine, Shiro. It just means you already have their respect. Do you know how long it took Sanda to gain it? And you know what a hardass she already is.” 

There wasn’t much else to say for it. Sam had unwavering faith in the people around him, no matter how much said people might know better. 

Shiro blinked against the sun and looked out across the horizon to the capital city beyond. Everyone around him seemed to think he could pull off representing an entire planet, so he might as well give in to the mass delusion as well. 

*

Keith peeled his suit off, sweat and dried blood making it stick to his arm and leg. He hissed as it pulled at his skin and semi-dried scabs ripped up, exposing the fresh wounds. Damn the pirates and their nano-explosives, and damn him for not noticing them in the air sooner. The shrapnel had sliced his suit wide in several spots along his left side, which, despite completing the infiltration and extraction mission, Kolivan would not be pleased about. It was his third suit in as many phoebs. 

The door to his room swung open and he barely got the suit back up over his hips before his mother stormed in. She took one long look at him, shredded suit and arm and all, and hung her head. 

“I need a new suit,” Keith said, unable to think of anything else to say in the silence. 

Krolia walked in, mouth in a tight line as she grabbed his arm and yanked it up to inspect, ignoring his strangled yelp. “What you need, Little Star,” she said, zeroing in on a sliver of metal still embedded in his arm. She pulled it out with prejudice and Keith winced. “Is a new hobby.”

He pulled his arm back and inspected the rest himself for leftover hunks. “I’m working with the Blades, that isn’t a hobby, Mom.” 

“For a young Duke, coming into his Lordship, and someone Elders are thinking of for the Kral Zera, I’d say it’s turning into an obsessive hobby you’re using to get out of your impending responsibilities.” While Keith was preoccupied with his arm, she ripped the rest of his suit off to look at his leg, completely nonchalant about her now very naked adult son. 

“Mom!”

“Oh so you can strip down like it’s nothing in front of fellow Blade members, but when the Blade member is your mother—”

“It’s awkward as fuck!” Keith squeaked, grabbing his suit back up to cover himself. “You’re my mother!” 

Kolia rolled her eyes and poked at his leg. “You’re so Terran.” When she found nothing too concerning she sat back on her heels. “So? What happened?” 

“Missed some nano-bombs,” Keith muttered, “Nothing huge.”

“And when it becomes huge? Keith! We’re not done!” 

He darted around her with the little energy he had left to get to the ensuite bathroom. A shower and dressing the bigger gashes was more important than hearing this speech from his mother again.

“You have another mission!” 

Keith poked his head back out from behind the door, deeply suspicious. “What?” 

Krolia perched on his bed, looking smugger than he ever liked seeing her. “Kolivan wants you to tail the new Ambassador from Earth. See what he’s like, if he should _stay_.” 

“Babysitting?” Keith sputtered. “Kolivan wants me to _babysit_?” 

“Investigating and informing,” Krolia said. Pleasure radiated off of her, having completely gotten her way in this. Hell it was likely she’d suggested the mission to Kolivan personally. 

“Babysitting and tattling,” Keith listed off. “This is what I used to do when I was still going to the Academy with Lotor, Mom!”

“He’s quite good looking I gather.” She picked at lint on his bed. “Might find a Terran mate, they’re rather nice, you know. Lotor even said as much to me the night after their little ambassador—”

“ _MOM!_ ” He held his hands up to stop her. “I do not need know that you and Lotor have discussed your sex lives. And you _don’t_ need to try and help mine by getting me to sleep with a human too! One I’m supposed to be spying on!” 

She rolled her eyes. “You like humans, you’re _half_ human, Keith.” 

“Human part isn’t the problem here mom, the _sex_ part! God, dad really was the only one who could stop you. Wouldn’t have to hear half this shit…” He turned to take his shower and ignore all of this for at least several long and unconscious vargas. 

“Your father would have been laughing his ass off. And he would have agreed with me on the mission, Keith!” When he didn’t respond and shut the door she just shouted through it. “He would have talked to you one on one later and you know he’d have convinced you this was the right move for your transition!” 

Keith huffed, letting his head thunk onto the door. “That was low even for you!” 

The sound of her getting up and leaving carried through the door. “You’re getting introduced to him as a Duke of the Greater Assembly tonight at the Assembly Dinner!” 

“You’re a terrible mother!” He shouted. 

“Love you too, you little shit!” 

She shut his door loud enough for him to know he was alone. He did appreciate that about his mother—for all of her training in spy work, espionage, and diplomacy she always telegraphed her actions to Keith when he was wrung out. 

He slid down the door knowing he was going to have to get up and clean off soon. Right now all he wanted to do was sit and stare at a wall. 

It wasn’t supposed to be a messy mission, just an extraction of goods from the hull of a pirate ship. The ‘goods’ hadn’t been reliable intel, apparently, since they turned out to be children the pirates were supplied to a trafficking ring. They would have made it out all right if one of his team members hadn’t gone berserk and decided to break protocol. All of the other Blades had tried to pull him back from storming through the ship, but he was already gone. From there it was a firefight through the cruiser, including the traps they’d let loose along corridors for such situations. That had been the nano-bombs that Keith had done his best to shield the child in his arms from. He’d succeeded, and they’d gotten all of the kids out in one piece before the ship blew, but not all of their team. 

“Wasted suit and three Blades nearly lost,” he said to his hands. The undertone of lilac in his skin was showing prominently, stress making him even more Galra than the few other traits his mother had passed on. Tiny claws, tiny teeth, and eyes that shifted during heightened emotions. They’d all called him ‘Little Human Lord’ when they’d moved back to Daibazaal after his father’s death. He’d joined the Blades as an undercover operative, to prove he wasn’t just a little half-breed like some of the conservative Galra liked to point out. He knew his worth, and he liked that it wasn’t on display. Those that knew, _knew_ , and it was enough to make the comments mutter under people’s breath not sting like they had during his teenage years. 

Now he was supposed to come out in the open. Expose himself as an operative and move into the humanitarian side of the organization like his mother and Kolivan had. Use his position in the Greater Assembly to affect change and display his ability that way. Then, the plan for him by everyone but Keith himself, was to bid for the Kral Zera and the throne. 

The Elders had contacted his mother a pheob back, telling her that his exemplary work with the Blades made him a candidate for the throne, and once the Elders decided there was no changing their minds. His name would be read aloud along with all of the other suitable candidates as chosen by the Elder Assembly, campaigns would follow. 

Lotor had laughed and hung up on him when he called asking for help getting out of the Elder’s line of sight. Now even his mother, who had been reluctant at first, was on board with the whole thing. 

There were kids, so small and scared, getting snatched up by pirates but he was supposed to play politics with a pretty Terran ambassador. 

“Fuck this.” 

*

Apartment was a misnomer. The abode was a full on penthouse suite at the top floor of a matte black building with guards that would’ve scared Shiro in the arena. He followed Sam in a haze through the lobby and up the private elevator, already programmed for his hand signature. 

“Sorry I took the liberty there,” Sam said. “But both of us being Garrison has some perks.”

“I’m surprised they wanted someone from the Garrison again,” Shiro said in lieu of freaking out about his new home. 

When they got upstairs it was as bad as he’d imagined. The suite took up half of the floor, at least. They were led into the foyer by Lyn, a thin, tall Galra with no hair. He got Shiro scanned fully into the system and began the tour of what amounted to a mansion. 

The foyer was a grand affair with white Altean marble shot through with silver and black, the coat closet almost a walk-in. Shiro caught sight of himself in the mirror on the far wall and felt his stomach drop. His silver hair and disheveled look contrasted so violently with the grand room around him, it took him a few long seconds to realize Lyn and Sam were still speaking to him. 

“The rest of the house, Ambassador? Your belongings have not yet been unpacked, I regret to say, but they will be shortly if you’d like someone sent up to take care of it.” Lyn looked at Shiro like he was about to burst into a million pieces. He wasn’t wrong. 

“No,” he croaked. “No, it’s okay, I’ll do that myself. Please.” He gestured for Lyn to go on. 

There was a formal sitting room, and beyond that two dining rooms—a small and large one. The kitchen was tucked behind both of these, overwhelming in size and appliances.

“The Garrison is sending a chef, I’ve heard?” Lyn was standing by the coffee machine he’d just explained, which was tantamount to a mini cafe on Shiro’s new black counters. 

“I… yes?” Shiro had heard something like that during his orientation meetings, but didn’t pay much attention to it thinking that he’d be making his own meals. He’d forgotten that he would be the one hosting dinners now, not attending. 

“Excellent, they’ll be staying at the attached residence when they arrive. Do you know when that would be?” 

“I—”

“Next week,” Sam said, stepping in. “Sorry, Shiro, the Garrison assigned one since you were busy picking out your other personnel.”

“That’s all right, I’m sure they’ll be fine. Anything else for the kitchen?” He was eager at this point to find his new bed and flop face first into it for a few hours. 

“I don’t think so. We’ll move back through to the private quarters now.” Lyn walked nimbly past them and back through to the foyer. 

“You all right, Shiro?” Sam asked quietly, walking slowly so Lyn wouldn’t hear. 

“Overwhelmed,” Shiro admitted. “I knew that being Ambassador came with a different life than being at the Garrison, but this is…”

“A lot,” Sam said. “Colleen adapted to faster than me, and the kids took to it like fish to water. But I think that was because they had lab access at the new school.” 

“I’m glad I’ll be able to have them both here with me, even though it isn’t completely Pidge’s area.” The floor under is feet was soft, almost springy it felt so supportive. As they moved through to the personal quarters he worried about being able to sleep on a too soft bed. 

“They’ll be all right, they love messing with systems and security, probably more than they should. Don’t worry about Pidge, Shiro, they’re going to have a good time out here and learn a lot.” He nudged Shiro. “And so are you, youngest person to hold a position like this in Earth’s history.” 

“Not helping, Sam,” Shiro muttered. 

Lyn was oblivious to all of their conversation, or was politely ignoring it. Either way he guided them through the private living room and attached kitchen nook. Shiro’s private office was here too, along with two guest bedrooms. Finally they came to the master suite and Shiro tried not to gawp. 

The room was huge, with a walk-in closet serving as his hallway to the ensuite bathroom. He was pretty sure the tub was big enough to count as a hot tub or small pool, and the shower was its own mini-room. 

“Of course if there is anything we can change, just let us know and we’ll have a team out as soon as we can,” Lyn said blithely. 

“No,” Shiro croaked. “No it’s all fine. It’s perfect, good, really good.” 

“Excellent.” Lyn moved to the bedside table and gestured to a pad plugged in there. Shiro did his best not to think about the size of the bed. “I’ve taken the liberty of uploading all of my contact information to your home data pad, along with a calendar you can set up dinners and events on. We do ask that if you have a large dinner party that you not schedule it within two days of any of the other diplomats in residence here. It stretches our security too thin, I’m afraid.” 

“Right, of course,” he answered automatically. 

“Well, if you do not need me for anything presently, I’ll take my leave and let you get settled in?” Lyn moved toward the door and paused, hands behind his back in parade rest. 

“Yes, thank you, Lyn. I’ll contact you if I think of anything else, but thank you, really,” Shiro said. He knew he wasn’t adhering to the normal Galran formalities when it came to those in the service class, but none of his knowledge was coming forth at the moment. 

Sam, luckily, took over for him and showed Lyn out while Shiro sank down onto the bed and put his face in his hands. 

“Shiro?” Sam called when he got back. 

“I can’t do this,” he said. He rubbed his face and pushed his hands into his hair. “Sam I can’t do this. I know they were grooming me for it after I… after the war, with all the networking and diplomatic meetings, but this is too much. I’m representing a planet, Sam, _our_ planet.” 

“Yes.” Sam leaned against the wall and observed Shiro through his thin glasses. “You’re representing us as a member of our military complex and as someone who has shown great leadership and skill in conflict. All things that are highly regarded by the Galra. If this was Altea I’d agree with you, you’d be awful at this. But you’re not on Altea, you’re here on Daibazaal with people who actively asked if you were in consideration for taking over after me.

“I know this is a lot, Shiro, but you’re going to be fine. You’re trained, and knowledgeable, and a good man.” Sam came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Now, I’m going to go to one of the guest rooms and get ready for tonight. You should too. Maybe take a nap, we’ve got a few hours before we need to be at the Kral Verax.” 

Shiro must have muttered something affirmative because Sam left the room and Shiro flopped back onto the bed, which was in fact, a little too soft. 

When the opportunity came up to take this appointment he had jumped at it. The job was everything the Garrison had been grooming him for, and it got him off of Earth and out exploring space again, even if he wasn’t doing it as a pilot. 

Five years ago, when Earth had gotten pulled into the Galran Civil War, Sendak knocking at their system’s door for conquest, Adam had begged Shiro not to go to the front lines. Shiro had told him that they needed the best out there against the Fire of Purification, that he had skills that defenses needed. Adam had told him that his ambition would get him killed. He’d nearly been right. 

Shiro didn’t see it as ambition, but a need to do what he could. He knew how good of a pilot he was, and it had helped take down a good amount of F.O.P. squadrons. One miscalculation had sent his ship and crew spiraling, and Shiro right into the hands of Sendak himself. 

Shiro held up his white and black prosthetic, a combination of advanced Galran engineering and Altean alchemy. After being liberated from Sendak’s arena, the Blade of Marmora had taken him straight to Altea to remove the arm the druids had forced on him. Their leader, Lord Kolivan, had said it was the least they could do for Shiro starting the gladiator uprising and helping the Blades when they happened to infiltrate the ship at the same time. It had been sheer luck that Shiro’s hot-wiring of his arm had been the same time Blades had finally snuck on board, but it all worked out to overwhelm Sendak and his men. Kolivan had been adamant that Shiro be cared for in the highest regard. 

Shiro had tried to protest it all, but he was too out of it to really say anything until he was stumbling out of a healing pod with a new arm. 

Shiro let the arm fall back to his side and he turned to stare out the floor-to-ceiling window wall. The city skyline beyond stretched far out to the horizon, the orange-pink sky dotted with lavender clouds. The second moon was faintly visible behind the clouds, its crescent outline huge in the sky. This was home for now, far away from the calm of Earth and from a life he’d tried to build there. 

Adam had hated that he didn’t retire when he was given the opportunity after the war. Shiro couldn’t entirely blame him—when he’d come home he was broken, lost, and Adam had done his best to be there and support Shiro in his recovery. Adam had thought that Shiro would take the retirement, settle down away from the action and repercussions of Sendak’s civil war. 

It still ached. He didn’t miss Adam as much as he missed having _someone_ ; being alone was not something Shiro was very good at. But in the end he hadn’t been all that great at being with someone either. 

Shiro curled up in the too big bed and mourned that he’d be in it alone. Wake up in cold sweat from the nightmares alone. But Adam was done with space and what it had to offer, and Shiro refused to give up on being out here in space, his first true love. 

He closed his eyes, hoping that some rest would come to him before his alarm went off to get in his dress blues. 

*

Keith tugged at his _kathi_ , the fabric stiff from disuse. He wished he was a senior Blade already so he could wear that _kathi_ wrap, which was at least breathable and made of flexible material. Unlike the brocade one currently wrapped around his frame. He’d filled out in the shoulders a bit since last wearing it, more fabric folded there, so getting the end to pin at his hip had the damn thing taught over his ass instead of loose and flowing. 

Predictably Krolia laughed when she saw it. 

“I see we haven’t worn this in a while,” she said, tugging at the edge. “Time to get a new one.” 

“Time to get one that isn’t so stiffly embroidered I feel like a statue?” He stepped out of her pawing range and shrugged his shoulders around trying to loosen the fabric. 

“Maybe, but don’t get your hopes up. They may just get stiffer for you from here.” She followed him anyway and undid the pin on his hip to try and loosen the wrap. “It also doesn’t help that your pleats are wrong, here, unwind, let’s see if we can make it work without a clear outline of your backside.”

Keith twisted around, letting the wrap fall away from his torso. “Oh? I thought you wanted me cozying up to that ambassador?”

In her deft hands the wrap was undone and repeated in the proper proportions, a force of habit Keith still wasn’t fully able to do. It was always mesmerizing to him watching her fold and wrap the _kathi_ , for her state dinners on Earth she would wear the traditional full _kathi_ wrap and _harzat_ robe, now only used for royal occasions on Daibazaal. She said she did it off world as an excuse to pull the robe out more. He loved to sit at her feet and watch the silks whirl overhead and around her as she dressed. 

She flipped his _kathi_ over and around him in a matter of moments, the folds already a million times crisper than his, the shoulder pleats perfectly displaying their family’s motifs. It was still tight around his torso, but at least now each butt cheek wasn’t prominently outlined for display. There had been worse scandals than that at these bi-decapheob Assembly receptions, but not recently enough for Keith to escape scrutiny. 

He followed his mother out to the waiting car and slid in the back with her. “Will I have to put up with people asking about platforms and strategies?” 

She signaled to their driver to move. “Likely,” she said to Keith once they were underway, “But Kolivan wants you charming the ambassador tonight so he doesn’t suspect while you tail him. You’re to offer your help to him while he acclimates and express interest in having someone else from Earth around.”

Keith tried not to bristle at that last bit. He was very interested in talking with someone from the planet he grew up on, sharing that connected culture, but it was also something he’d spent years cramming into a corner since coming to Daibazaal. Old prejudices ran deep, and he’d been a ‘half-breed’ to more than some since he stepped off the ship at sixteen. “Anything else? His favorite cologne? How about what flowers to send when he decides my ass in this _kathi_ is irresistible?” 

Krolia flicked his ear. “Watch yourself, kit.”

“I’m twenty-five, I can’t still be a kit.”

“We’ll see,” she said. 

The Kral Verax was at once the least and most impressive of all the Great Galran Halls. Unlike the Kral Zera which was an open amphitheater of ritual, or the cathedral like Kral Xion reserved for grand ceremonies, Kral Verax was a hulking building that looked almost like an Altean castle-ship if the ships were as broad as they were tall. There were three towers atop the building, each corresponding to the three theatres where the Assemblies met. The Greater Assembly, Lower and Upper houses to the left, the Elder Assembly in the center, and the Congress Assembly to the right. The dinner would take place on the second floor ballroom, between the Greater and Elder Assembly Halls. The rest of the building was split up into dining halls and ballrooms and a multitude of floors dedicated to meeting rooms and offices of dignitaries. This new Ambassador would be in the Embassy Hall set aside as Earth’s domain, which was currently on the other side of the building, closer to the Congressional Assembly. 

Keith hated this building more than any other in the capital and hated that he knew every inch of it for Blade work. He’d be able to follow the guy around with mind-numbing ease. 

He followed his mother into the building, Kolivan meeting them both almost instantly. Keith absently wondered just when the two of them would make a move on the other and almost missed Kolivan addressing him. 

“You’re not going to have an easy time with this one, as I’m sure you know.” 

“Oh?” Keith picked up his pace to stand next to Kolivan. “A Terran that can keep up with Galra?” 

Kolivan shot him a strange look and cleared his throat. “I would think precisely that. Shirogane has proved himself a valiant and talented soldier during his time at the Garrison, and in the War. I wouldn’t take this easy, Keith.”

“I’ll assess it myself when I see him,” he said, doing his best to not be completely annoyed at the entire affair. 

They stepped together into the ballroom, a sea of Nobles and politicians greeting them in a rainbow of _kathi_ and other official uniform. Kolivan excused himself to find the ambassador. Keith beelined it for the drink bar, figuring if he wasn’t fully on duty yet tonight he could at least enjoy it. 

“You surprise me,” his mother said, following him to get a drink. 

“Really? I’m still surprising you about this babysitting job?” He flagged the bartender and ordered them each a whiskey, one of the things Krolia had been adamant about bringing back to their homeworld. 

“I didn’t think you, of all people, would have such a low opinion of humans,” she hummed. 

Keith resisted rolling his eyes. “You know I don’t. I’m frustrated with this entire thing, you know that. Plus how many humans could really, _honestly_ , hold their own against someone Galra, military or no?” 

“I can think of one in particular.” She gave him a look. 

Keith flushed and wished his drink was here already. “We’re not talking about that, and yes, he was… that gladiator was something else, but also a complete anomaly for any race I’d wager.”

Their drinks came and Krolia took hers delicately, turning back around to survey the room. “Hm.” 

Keith took his own drink, turned to follow her gaze, and nearly dropped his glass. 

The man in a gray, black, and orange uniform speaking with Kolivan was an absolute mountain that made Keith’s mouth go dry. He had starlight white hair and kind eyes that even from this distance looked sincere as they tracked Kolivan’s every word. He looked almost familiar, a face that plucked at Keith’s instincts and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Keith was suddenly very sure that _this_ Terran would give him a run for his money in a sparring match. 

“What was that wager now, son?” 

Keith gulped down his drink in one go and hoarsely asked for another. 

*

“Thank you again for the invitation, Lord Kolivan, it’s been helpful to have an event like this after arrival.” The words were close enough to sincere that Kolivan didn’t push him about the statement. In private quarters Shiro may have said how intensely overwhelmed he felt, but here in public all ears were open, waiting for the newbie to falter. 

“I’m pleased you took me up on it, even more so now. I know that adjusting can be difficult. Speaking of, I have friends of mine I’d very much like to introduce you to, if that’s all right?” 

Any friends of Kolivan were sure to be assets to Shiro in the long run, and since Sam had completely abandoned him to the long table of Galran delicacies he had no reason to say no. “By all means, I’d love to meet them.” 

Kolivan smiled and led them through the crowd toward the drink bar where Shiro was surprised to see a familiar face. Nerves shot through him and he smoothed over his uniform as they approached. 

“Ambassador Shirogane, I’d like to introduce you to Lady Krolia, former Ambassador to Earth,” Kolivan said. The woman Kolivan’s right was tall and imposing, her pants and undershirt a light blue, the _kathi_ wrap covering her torso a mix of that same color and a deeper violet threaded through with gold. Shiro had yet to fully understand all of the coats, sigils, and motifs for the classes and clans displayed on the _kathi_ worn by nobility, but he knew that the colors were of her house and of her work with the covert Blades of Marmora, while the gold signaled her service abroad. 

Shiro took a breath and bowed. “An honor, Lady Krolia. I remember hearing of you and your diplomacy often in the news growing up, this is truly a delight.” When he looked back up she had a knowing smile on her face. 

“A pleasure for myself as well, Ambassador. We’ve heard much about you here on Daibazaal,” she held out her hand to shake his. Her grip was warm and strong, it felt at once like both a welcome and a warning. 

“And this,” Kolivan continued, “Is Krolia’s son, Lord Yorak. He’s soon to be fully inducted into the Upper House of the Greater Assembly and has the eye of the Elders for the Kral Zera.” 

Anything Kolivan said after ‘and this’ was lost on Shiro. Krolia was a beautiful woman who had apparently produced the most stunning being in the universe. The man before him had ink black hair that gleamed almost purple as the lights above danced off of it, the length of which was intricately braided and hanging over one shoulder. His face was graceful, all sharp, elegant lines and soulful violet eyes. He didn’t have the bulk or breadth of most Galra, his pale skin attesting to his partial human parentage, but he held himself like a panther. 

“A pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Shirogane.” His voice was like raw honey and slid down over bones, slow and rich and sweet. 

Shiro swallowed tightly and hoped his mouth hadn’t been hanging open while he gaped at the beautiful man. “You as well, Lord Yorak. It’s good to know there are people familiar with Earth around beyond my incoming staff.” 

“I heard from Kolivan you had some trouble recruiting before coming to Daibazaal,” Krolia said. 

It took a Herculean effort to tear his gaze away from her son and look back to her. “Yes, unfortunately the war soured some to the idea of working with or being stationed on the Galra homeworld. I wanted to make sure all of my staff was without any prejudice or latent ill feelings, and it’s been hard to find Garrison personal who fit that bill.” 

“I’m sure many of them fought in the war, it’s understandable I think for those who weren’t fighting with our armies to feel as such,” Yorak said evenly. There was no hint of judgement in his tone and Shiro was grateful for that. 

He had to respond and prayed that he sounded at least somewhat coherent. “Yes, understandable, but if we don’t move beyond our experiences to explore the broader spectrum of people and places they can fester into problematic opinions. I’m sure you’ve seen that yourselves from your time on Earth.” 

“We Galra are no stranger to that either, Ambassador,” Krolia assured him. “Have you been here long? You should get a drink, there’s a good array of Earth spirits here, I’ve made sure of that since I returned to Daibazaal.” 

“Is what I’m hearing, Lady Krolia, not to test myself against Galran liquor tonight?” 

Her son chuckled and flagged the waiter. “Mother won’t say it outright, but yes. Best find your limits at home with someone you trust before attempting in public. Several other dignitaries took the warning as a challenge and have made some memorable first impressions.” 

“I can imagine,” Shiro laughed. “I am however particular to Duxirin Nunvill, if that’s available?” 

Lord Yorak’s gorgeous eyes went wide, clearly not expecting Shiro to have known his way around the alcohol for this system. Shiro silently thanked his time on Altea and informed the waiter he’d like his drink cold. “I could never get into the warmed version during my time on Altea, I will admit.”

“That’s because the Alteans don’t include the right spices when they mull it, they throw in too many fruits.” Yorak said, his voice lost the noble lilt to it. He didn’t seem to notice though as he went on, “So if you want, I can change the order and you have some _real_ Duxirin?” The challenge was clear in his voice. 

Shiro never backed down from a challenge. “I’ll take it then, and if it’s just as bad as the Altean one?” 

“I’ll take three shots of gin, straight.” 

Shiro wrinkled his nose and tried not to snort in laughter. “All right, you’ve got me, no one should take shots of gin.” 

They were leaning on the counter together now, waiting for the drinks to come. Shiro barely noticed when Kolivan and Krolia excused themselves, and absolutely didn’t notice their knowing looks to each other. 

“So, you grew up on Earth I take it?” 

Yorak nodded. “Until my dad died when I was sixteen. It was hard for mom to stay on after that so she found a successor and we moved back here.” Yoark said it in the practiced way of one who had to speak frequently on loss. 

“I remember the news. I’m sorry.” The drinks came in small, bell-like glasses, steam just barely curling up from the pale amber liquid inside in soft tendrils. 

“It was a long time ago,” Yorak said. He took his drink and gently blew on the steam. “But thank you.”

“I can’t imagine the transition was easy,” Shiro said and immediately regretted it. 

Yorak stiffened every so slightly, voice no longer easy when he spoke. “It wasn’t, Ambassador.” 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro amended. “I didn’t mean to offend, I just was going to say that if you could make it through a transition like that I could... what I mean to say is—”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a diplomat?” 

Shiro nearly rose to the bait, but Yorak was smiling again, laughing at him, so Shiro laughed at himself. “I don’t know what they were thinking. Apparently putting my foot in my mouth is part of my political charm.” 

“You’re earnest,” Yorak said. “There’s a vulnerable honesty in that. And it’ll take you farther here than being sly or well-spoken.” He grimaced and downed more of his drink. 

Shiro knew he was referring to Sendak and his Fire of Purification movement. Sendak had been an excellent orator, something the current iteration of the Galran government now mistrusted greatly. “Well, it’s good to know there’s at least one place in the universe looking for honest politicians.” 

Shiro finally took a sip of his drink, deeming it cool enough to not burn his tongue. Immediately his mouth was flooded with something like a mix of anise, cinnamon, and the bitter honey note of nunvill. When it hit the back of his throat it burned and kept doing so on the way down. “ _Holy shit_.” 

Next to him Yorak smirked. “I told you the Alteans did it wrong.” 

“Are you sure you do it right? Wow.” He shook his head and stared down at his drink, debating if he liked the flavor or not. 

Yorak laughed and took pity on him, holding out a small, pale brown rock in his hand. “Here, I was messing with you. We put a cube of rock sugar in the drink or in our mouths to temper it.” 

Shiro narrowed his eyes and took the sugar, plopping it loudly into his drink. “I see, get the Terran to make a fool of himself on all fronts so you can hold it over him in meetings.”

“And yet you’re still sitting here.” Yorak grinned toothily. Shiro could see the little outline of a sugar rock in the man’s cheek now, just tucked on the left side out of sight. 

The next sip he took was much milder, the spice and sweet melding on his tongue and easing the burn, Galran rock sugar being an approximation of crystalized molasses. “You know they sell that stuff as candy on Earth? Charge an arm and a leg for it too. My grandma would get it for me on Christmas as a treat and I’d try and make it last for weeks.” 

“Mom always had droves of it at the house, but she didn’t like me eating too much chocolate for some reason so I used it to trade my classmates for Snickers and Twix.” Yorak swirled his drink around. “Dad never understood her reasoning, but she maintained that the over-processed junk food would mess me up somehow.”

“But the giant hunk of pure nuclear-grade sugar was fine?” 

Yorak laughed, a full laugh, one that was a little too loud and not entirely polite. It warmed Shiro to see the other man opening up to him. “Yeah, that was my thought exactly. But she maintained that something about Earth candy could mess up my growth or something? To be fair to her I am small for a Galra.” 

“You were one of the first half-Galra kids weren’t you? For humans that is,” Shiro asked. He somewhat remembered hearing about this in the news too, but only briefly for a family interview Krolia had allowed. If he remembered right Yorak would have been around ten at the time, and Shiro sixteen. 

“Yeah, it was a thing for a while, and more doctors visits than I ever cared to have. It wasn’t as intense as a lot of people make it out to be.” He finished his drink and signaled for another, whiskey this time. “What about you? How’d you end up out here?”

The question was simple enough, and the answer wasn’t something complex to almost anyone but Shiro himself. His churning thoughts from earlier came back and he found himself almost confessing them out loud to this man he’d only just met. “A little bit of war, a little bit of being able to talk to people,” he grinned, lifting his cup up to his lip, “A little bit of endearing honesty.”

The joke landed and Yorak smiled too, soft and spreading over his face like sunshine. He was beautiful and Shiro was having a hard time remembering why that wasn’t the best thing in the world right now. 

Yorak took a sip and Shiro couldn’t help but watch it slide down that long pale throat. “So you chose the assignment here? Or they chose it for you?” Yorak asked. 

“Chose it for me, but I don’t mind it. I’ve always been curious about the place, especially after fighting alongside some of you in the war.” Galra society was fascinating to most of Earth, satisfying both the curiosity at their different appearance and the almost mysticism that surrounded their rigid and regulated culture. Adam had once joked that they were Klingon and Vulcan hybrids. 

“We have…” Yorak mulled it over, swirling his glass. “When I first got here after being on Earth, a lot of the rules and class bullshit didn’t make any sort of sense to me. But now I get it. And it isn’t a full caste system either. You can move up and down the ladder as society swings around, but the customs and social rules can feel… archaic? Victorian? I got told that once but it never made sense to me.” 

“Ah, yes. It was the later half of Earth’s 1800s, about three centuries ago. Very class and custom rigid, but also heavily romanticized, which I think explains the amount of romance novels and comics that sprung up about human-Galra pairings.” He shook his head, recalling one low-budget drama his friends had all gotten addicted to. 

Yorak made a face. “Yeah I know, I made the mistake of reading one of the comics. And several people in my classes made the mistake too and tried to rope me into dates. Made zero sense to me at the time since I’d only been raised on Earth. I didn’t even know what class I was then!” He laughed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t miss high school.”

“I don’t think anyone really does,” Shiro said. “So your mother never let you know that you were…” Shiro gestured at Keith, in particular his _kathi_. 

“Nope.” Keith finished his drink signaled he was done to the bartender. “I was mad about it, when we moved back and I had no clue what I was doing, but I get it now. If she’d told me, I would have had to put myself in the mindset early on, and it might have affected how I interacted with kids on Earth. Instead I came back here without the classist mentality and it’s actually worked pretty well for me.” 

“I would say so, if the Elders are looking at you for candidacy,” Shiro said, suddenly recalling exactly who he was talking to. It wasn’t doing much in the way of making his eyes stop arresting on those sweet, plush lips though. 

Yorak’s face became unreadable and he turned to look out across the hall. “You want to dance?” 

*

In every instance he’d imagined this meeting since learning of his mission, he never thought he’d ask the ambassador to dance. In all of the iterations in his head though he hadn’t been imagining Shirogane, who was so broad he looked like he could yank a Swarthian meerakeet around by the ears. Not only that but the man was gorgeous, strong jaw and silver eyes. His hair color was unusual for a human, but Keith found it stunning all the same. The scar over the bridge of his nose only served to give him that extra edge of dashing. If he got to look at this man all day maybe the assignment wasn’t so bad. 

That could be the alcohol talking too, he realized, having imbibed enough to have a pleasant hum moving through his veins. 

Shirogane was looking at him bewilderedly, eyes hinting at mischief. “Dancing?” 

Keith laughed, extending his hand. “Yes, Ambassador, dancing. It’s finally started up and it’s a good way to ingratiate yourself to the upper crust here.” 

“To them,” Shirogane nodded out to the crowd of people, “or to you, Lord Yorak?” 

Something wild bloomed in Keith chest at the sharp, sterling gaze Shirogane gave him. Definitely the alcohol, he needed to cut back and clear his head immediately. “To them, they’ve already seen my dance moves, and you proved yourself to me with the Duxirin. You coming or not? I have to go out at some point and I’d like it to be with someone interesting.” 

For a long moment Keith didn’t think Shirogane would take him up on it, but then a smooth metal hand slid into his and they were off. Keith didn’t think his heart had beat this loudly in his chest since his first mission with the Blades. 

Galran dancing wasn’t like the partnered Earth dances, or even Earth’s historical group dancing, as he discovered. It was part dancing, part fight. You moved around and against your partner in practiced moves, while avoiding the other dancers on the floor. It was easy to dance with more than one person, or in groups this way, as families with your children often did. It was about trust, both being able to read and appropriately telegraph moves to your partner. 

Out on the floor a few paired dances had already begun. Shirogane didn’t falter at the sight, so he must have heard about their way of dancing at the very least. When Keith found them a fairly clear spot and lined them up to bow, all Shirogane asked was that Keith go slow on him while he caught on. Keith promised he would and started out with easy, readable moves. 

Two songs later Keith had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and silently declared dancing a colossal mistake. Shirogane had taken to it easily, his moves graceful and completely in sync with Keith. They moved around each other like water, even when Keith pulled some of his more acrobatic moves, Shirogane was flexible and wove around him. The man was a skilled fighter as Keith had suspected, able to control his body with elegant precision. 

Keith went to sweep, expecting Shirogane to slide around it, but instead he caught Keith, a strong arm wrapping around his waist, the shock of it allowing for Shirogane to tilt him back, almost to the floor. Keith felt his braid slide off of his shoulder and the flush crawl up high onto his cheeks. 

Shirogane grinned down at him, toothy, almost feral. “Had to show off some Earth moves while I had the chance.” 

He was slowly lifted back up to standing, Shirogane taking the entire brunt of his weight as he went. Keith had no clue what to make of the show. All around them, people had stopped to watch the display. Physical contact rarely happened Galran dancing-it was incredibly intimate. Keith’s mind was racing with how this might turn into an accidental show of supplication. 

Thinking quickly, he tensed and used the momentum to carry himself up the rest of the way, take Shirogane’s hand, and spin out from him. A simple tug informed him Shirogane had picked up the idea and Keith came spinning back in, stepping directly into Shirogane’s space and putting Keith in the lead. Forced lessons in ballroom dancing during his youth were very quickly forgiven as he put the Ambassador on the back foot, leading him around the room in a tight waltz. 

“Only if I’m allowed to show off too, Ambassador,” Keith all but purred. Shirogane was as flushed now as Keith felt. Keith spun him out and Shirogane came back with a sweeping arch of his arm, fluidly leading them back into the paced Galran dance they had begun. 

The music faded at last and by unspoken agreement they moved from the dance floor back to the bar. Everything in him was buzzing from the dance. At least the murmuring had died down. Now, away from the moment, Shirogane looked sheepish. 

“I realize that pulling that move may have been a bit rash on my part.” He rubbed the back of his neck, face chagrined. 

Keith waved him off. “No worries, but for future reference a dip could signify that your partner is submitting to you, which is not exactly something done at… public meetings. It’s usually saved for the clubbing scene if it happens.” Or the bedroom, but Keith wasn’t going to make that kind of implication right now. 

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of it like that.” Shirogane looked truly mortified. “What can I do to fix it?” 

“Don’t worry, really, I think I saved it when I pulled you back in a took the lead. Showed that it was an even movement. If it hadn’t worked people would be whispering about us a lot more.” Keith lead them back to the bar, needing something to drink in his hand, though he was going to aim for something without spirits in it for this round. 

“Were they already?” 

“Well, you are a new Ambassador from a planet that has had curious luck with them recently,” Keith said. He wanted to point out that they’d just taken quite the turn on the dance floor too, which was sure to start rumors he hadn’t intended on starting at all. Damn this man and his gorgeous eyes that made it impossible to Keith to think. 

He ordered a tea when the bartender came back around and Shirogane ordered another whiskey. Keith tried not to raise an eye at this but when the drinks came Shirogane was sipping it slowly, like he wanted to keep his wits about him. Like he was building to something. 

“I’m glad Kolivan introduced us,” Shirogane said at length. “I was worried about making connections here. You know, they kept lauding me back home, for getting this position so young. But now that I’m here I feel it, my inexperience.” He stared down into his glass. 

“I can understand that,” Keith said. “I’m barely twenty-five and they’re asking me to throw my name in for Emperor.” He admitted this quietly, between the two of them on a night when secrets between strangers were acceptable. Hopefully in the morning when Keith had to professionally build trust with this man these things wouldn’t be held against him. Right now he was feeling too comfortable to care. 

“That’s… that’s _a lot_ ,” Shirogane said. “I can’t imagine how you even begin to think about that.”

“I don’t,” Keith snorted. “At least I try not to. I don’t think that I’d get it anyway, if I went through with the Kral Zera.” 

“Why not?” 

The question was expected, but the genuine concern in Shirogane’s voice, like he couldn’t believe that Keith would think he _wouldn’t_ get the title, was surprising. He trailed a pinky in the tea, a habit he’d formed from when his mother was teaching him etiquette and told him it was something Altean nobility would do at times. He’d ended up keeping the habit, doing it when he needed to think during meetings. “You have to want it, to really go through all of that. The fighting and campaigning to get the spot. The people have to accept you at the end of it all too, not just the fact that you lit the flame, they have to accept that _you_ were the one to do it. There’s still the grace period before the official vote to swear you in. I don’t think the planet will be okay with a half-Galra leading them.” 

“They were going to be okay with the Prince though?” Shiro prodded. 

Keith shook his head. “Lotor is half-Altean. A race we’ve had long relations with and respect as complete equals. No offense but Earth is new, and humans seem small and weak to many Galra. When I moved here I had to prove myself several times over just to be respected at all by classmates. It honestly wasn’t until the Elders mentioned putting me forward that anyone started looking at me seriously at all. It’s been unnerving, honestly, having the semi-anonymity stripped away.” 

“It must be stressful,” Shirogane said. “Having something like that thrust upon you. But I doubt they’d choose you if they didn’t see something in you that was… imperial.” 

Keith smiled but it was hollow. “I suppose. It’s strange to me all the same. I’ve never cared about titles, I just want to be seen and judged on my own merits. Beyond that I couldn’t care less.” 

“It’s probably that right there that made them partial to you, you know.” Shirogane was staring down into his drink too, face far away in thought. He looked beautiful like this, relaxed and deep in his own musing despite the shared conversation. “Not in it for the glory, but for the reasons of trying to do the right thing, be a good person.” 

“Is that how you really ended up out here? Trying to just be a good person?” 

Shirogane frowned. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve never done things because they’re good or bad. I mean, I know what the right thing to do is, and I try to always do ’the right thing’, but I’ve always had goals. I wanted to be up in space, I wanted to pilot, I wanted to explore and meet new people. My curiosity was what drove me, drives me still.” 

“Ambitious,” Keith said. He was impressed again by Shirogane’s honesty. It wasn’t something he expected from a military man turned politician. 

The frown was still on Shirogane’s face, though, pinched almost. “That’s what some called it. I wish I could say it was all for advancing my own name or for the power or whatever it is that’s supposed to motivate someone into these positions. But is isn’t, I just always feel like there’s… _more_. And I’d be remiss to leave it alone.” 

“Ambition doesn’t always mean being at the forefront of everything you know, it can just mean being tenacious about what you want from life.” 

The tension on Shirogane’s face broke. He looked at Keith with wide bright eyes, like Keith had just peeled open the cosmos for him to wonder at. “Yeah, I suppose it can.”

*

They talked until most of the room had filtered out, some of them coming to greet and subsequently wish Shiro a good night. He tried to feel bad about not leaving Yorak’s side until Krolia and Kolivan had pulled the man away to head out, but he couldn’t. Yorak was refreshing and blunt, cut with a wicked wit and arresting good looks. 

On the way back to his new home Shiro couldn’t help but replaying the night in his mind. The intense dancing followed by an equally intense conversation that still had Shiro slightly reeling. After explaining how he felt to nearly everyone else back home, including his ex-husband, he hadn’t expected a man he’d known for a total of two hours to immediately understand what he meant when he said he didn’t consider himself ‘ambitious’. 

He wandered into his place in a daze of feeling and heady alcohol, almost dancing through the apartment and humming loudly in the shower. He hadn’t felt like this in ages, and he was having a very hard time letting the feeling go. 

Ready for bed and feeling refreshed, Shiro settled in a pulled up the news on his data pad so he’d be ready for the morning when it came. He knew that after a night of drinking he wouldn’t be ready to face the ticker tape in the morning. 

“ _And in news from Altea, it seems that former junior-ambassador Espinosa will in fact be continuing his relationship with Crown Princess Allura and Prince Lotor, despite their upcoming wedding._

_“This is a shocking twist to some Galaxies that lean more toward monogamous relationships. It’s also called into question the integrity of Terran diplomats on a whole, as Espinosa was intended to take over from the current and and first ever ambassador to Altea.”_

The other anchor on the screen leaned forward, camera panning to him. “ _It’s clear though that this instance is an outstanding one, given Espinosa’s entanglement with two planetary royals. Should this have been a civilian Altean couple, there may not have been as much scandal involved. However, the people in question go beyond high profile which exacerbates everything.”_

His co-anchor laughed, camera panning back out to include her. “ _The new ambassador to Daibazaal had better keep an eye out for any good-looking nobility and steer the other direction then?”_

_“Very likely, two instances would be disastrous for Earth’s image.”_

Shiro shut off his data pad and plunged his room into darkness. Sleep. He needed sleep.

The morning alarm came before he was ready to face it, cheerful beeping making him roll over across the wide expanse of the bed to find where his data pad had slid off too. He was dangerously close to having to strip the damn bed when his fingers found the edge of it somewhere to the left of his thigh. The blaring got louder with extraction and it still took Shiro a good thirty seconds to punch the alarm off. 

A hangover was brewing behind his eyelids, he wasn’t quite awake enough to make itself properly known, but it would be soon. 

“No more drinking with pretty nobility,” he muttered to himself. 

Alarm off, his AI Assistant widget starting tittering away, first with his morning meetings and then with the permanent news of the day so far. 

“…official announcements for Kral Zera candidacy are expected to be made by The Archivist later today. Also expected is an official statement from Perian House in regards to Princess Allura and Prince Lotor’s affair with former Junior Ambassador Espinosa of Earth… outer systems are reporting an uptick again in raid from the remainder of F.O.P.’s forces not yet contained by the Imperial Fleet. Olkarion has pledged to assist Diabazaal with new tracking technology…”

Shiro listened and got dressed, mentally going over the meetings he had ahead of him rather than the news cycle. First was his formal introduction to the other Ambassadors he’d be working with from around the quadrant. Then formal introductions of him to the different Assemblies, culminating in an introduction to the Emperor and Empress themselves. He retied his tie three times before giving up and heading out the door. The only consolation to his nerves was that Sam would be there with him today. 

At least, that had been the plan. 

“What do you mean you’re not coming?”

Sam had been waiting for him outside his building with coffee and a savory pastry Shiro was now spitting all over the sidewalk in his indignation. 

“Shiro, I’m sorry, I thought that I would be the one making your formal introductions, but it will look better if someone from Daibazaal does it. At first they were having trouble finding someone with the time, but it seems you made quite the impression last night.” Sam walked on, unaffected by Shiro’s discomfort. “Not to mention having someone so up and coming on your side early on will look good.”

Dread coiled in Shiro’s gut. “You don’t mean…”

“Lord Yorak, of course. I’m sure Kolivan would have but you and I both know he doesn’t have time with the missions he’s been running. Yorak is almost a son to him, so it will end up looking very good for you having him do the introductions. I’ll be around if you need me, don’t worry, but it’s a very good thing to have someone like him for your introduction to Elder Assembly and the royals.” 

Shiro started mentally walling up his libido behind reinforced concrete. 

*

The air in the Kral Verax left a stale taste in the back of Keith’s throat like it always did. A battleground he felt unsteady on, everything hashed out with words and double meanings instead of the simple clash of sword or blast of laser fire. 

His mother woke him up by chucking a _kathi_ and pair of burgundy trousers at his head. Apparently he would be helping Shirogane with introductions and his first day on the job, despite Keith knowing the bare minimum about politics within the Kral Verax, and less about how an ambassador’s day-to-day looked. 

The main entrance was packed with people, Galra and off-worlders alike, everyone deep in conversations that were of the utmost importance in that moment. Keith thought about his last mission and the distress calls from planets in the outer systems, how little of that news he’d heard from the mouths of the politicians and fellow nobles walking by him. 

A few had stopped to look at him in surprise, more than one asking if he needed assistance, both in earnest and jest. He kept his arms crossed and what Lotor affectionately called his ‘bitch face’ on. He wasn’t here for stupid policy games. 

He’d been worried he might miss Shirogane coming through but he shouldn’t have been. A new Terran Ambassador, and one with the same bulk as a small Galran, wouldn’t be missed. The murmurs started almost immediately, furtive glances leading Keith’s gaze right to the man and former Ambassador Holt. 

“Oh, he’s here!” He heard Holt say. “Lord Yorak!” Holt waved and made his way over to Keith, Shirogane in clearly reluctant tow. 

Keith bristled. He’d been under the impression they’d gotten along last night, but Shirogane’s body language now said exactly the opposite. 

“Mr. Holt, Ambassador,” Keith nodded to each of them and fell into parade rest. 

“Lovely to see you again Lord Yorak,” Holt said extending a hand. 

Keith shook it happily, but kept an eye on Shirogane, who looked like he’d swallowed several lemons. “You as well, it’s been too long. I’m sorry I missed you last night at the dinner, I was admittedly preoccupied.” He flashed a glance at Shirogane who at least grimaced at the remark. 

“Well hopefully you didn’t get too sick of Shiro here! Thank you for volunteering to do this, you and I both know how much it will help him out being introduced by a Duke rather than just another Terran.” Holt laughed and slapped Shirogane on the shoulder. “Buck up Shiro, you’re not gonna get eaten alive today.”

Shirogane grumbled something and cleared his throat. “Good to see you again, Lord Yorak.” 

The gravel of his voice had Keith looking over him again. Maybe it wasn’t disdain, but a massive hangover from the amount they imbibed the night before. Either way Keith was newly determined to keep this entire affair impersonal and professional. “I hope your introduction to Daibazaal wasn’t too much last night, Ambassador?”

Shirogane twitched, grimace coming back. “No, no it was… a very enjoyable evening, thank you. I seem to have just lost my ability to recover from good times like I used to.” 

“I thought the hair didn’t account for age, Ambassador?” He couldn’t help the sight jab, just to see where Shirogane really stood after the night before.

“It doesn’t, but humans as a species lose the ease of being able to ‘play hard work hard’ right around the ripe old age of thirty, and I’m one year past the mark.” He flashed a forced smile at Keith and stepped full up to him and Holt. “Shall we get going, or is there a chance to see my office first?” 

Keith tucked the slightly off reactions of Shirogane away and led them up to the Embassy wing, Holt pointing out tips and shortcuts to places as they went. 

He could feel the tension rolling off Shirogane as they walked, and his thought that it was just the hangover started to hold less ground. Something had happened between the pleasant, almost flirtatious goodbye the night before and this morning. 

The Earth Embassy was behind several locked doors that Holt had to scan Shirogane in for, and beyond that was a small suite of offices. Shirogane took in his new workplace slowly, nodding here and there and setting a few of his packed boxes that had arrived in various locations. He and Holt talked about the possibility of bringing Holt’s son and younger child on as staff, and if it would look too much like nepotism. 

“As long as you fill out the rest of the staff otherwise, it wouldn’t be frowned upon here,” Keith commented. The two men almost startled at him butting into the conversation, but he felt he needed to remind Shirogane that he was here. “Much of the Greater Assembly does the same to get the younger members of family accustomed to how things work. After moving back I worked out of my mother’s office for a while. I think it would be seen here as you repaying Holt for his services by offering jobs to his children.”

Shirogane’s mouth stuttered open a few times before actual words made it out of his mouth. “T-that’s good to know. Thank you, Lord Yorak.”

“I’ll let Matt and Pidge know you’re interested.” Holt said. 

Shirogane chuckled. “So they went with the nickname after all?”

“They did, said it was the only other name they’ve had that felt right. Matt of course crowed about it for days.” Holt shook his head and looked to Keith. “Well I’ll leave you both to it. Though I may tag along so I can say some goodbyes to the other Ambassadors, but La-Sai has a luncheon planned for me that I suspect will keep me occupied the rest of the day. Shiro, feel free to send me a message if a question pops up!” 

Despite saying he might tag along, Holt ended up diverging from them with the first introduction. Keith had tried to steer them to the Nalquod Ambassador first, but La-Sai headed them off just outside the office and steered them right to the Olkari suite. It left Keith and Shirogane alone together for the long stretch of the day that Keith was now completely dreading. 

Mostly due to the way Shirogane was clearly pouting about losing Sam. “Am I that nerve-wracking of a tour guide?” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but annoyance at Shirogane’s attitude was getting to him. 

“No!” Shirogane startled and held his hands up, immediately deflating once he did. “No, it’s not you. It’s me, I…” his face scrunched up a few times, jaw working around what he clearly wanted to say. “With what’s going on with Espinosa, I’m leery of getting too close with anyone high up the ladder when I’m very new, and that is still _very_ much in the news cycle.”

Keith was going to call Lotor and rip him a new one of over his gleeful little relationship addition. It was even fucking with _Keith’s_ work. To Shirogane, who was adorably anxious about this admission he said, “I completely understand, Ambassador. Us… _getting along,_ last night, will not be interpreted as anything more than what it was—two people having a nice time at a dinner.” 

Palatable relief washed over Shirogane. “Thank god. I was going to have to go and have some pointed words with Espinosa if he’d screwed me over from making friends.”

Keith barked out a laugh, the Shirogane from the night before now back in front of him. The cold shoulder had bugged him more than he wanted to admit, now that the weight of it was off of him. “I was thinking of calling Lotor and giving him an earful as well, don’t worry. I know the news is focusing on your poor guy, but everyone up top is just as peeved at Lotor and Allura. They should have been more careful about the affair. They both _know_ better.” 

Shirogane snorted. “You’d think getting into bed with a junior political figure would be something two royals would actively avoid.”

Keith stared at him. A former solider and now intergalactic politician couldn’t be that obtuse, especially one with an _Altean_ arm. 

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

Keith tried to school his face. “You clearly didn’t spend enough time with the Alteans. They are… decidedly _open_ about their relationships. Even situations that are on surface monogamous, it’s nothing to them to have a dalliance here and there. That was half the issue with Zarkon marrying Honerva—there was great concern that she might not hold herself to the dedication Galra mates did.” 

Shirogane’s eyes went wide. Apparently he hadn’t paid attention to Altean social dynamics. “So Lotor is getting as much flack as Lance here then?” Shirogane asked. 

“Almost, he’s half-Altean, and he’s marrying into Allura’s family, not the other way around. It’s not really a bad, or dishonorable thing. More like an embarrassment that they got _caught._ That’s the whole thing of it, you don’t let your bedroom go public like a teenager.” Keith couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering the absolute dressing down Lotor had gotten from his mother when the picture leaked. 

“So… it’s not the affair, it’s the fact that they weren’t, neat and tidy about it?” Shirogane’s face was pinched in deep thought. “Okay that’s… that’s absolutely not the take on Earth.”

“Well, you’re a more monogamously minded society, right? I remember there still being a stigma about being polyamorous while I was going to school there.” Keith never saw the issue with it personally. Most Galra didn’t see any issue with it either until one was leaning into taking a mate. Even then groups of three or sometimes more were mated together. “For us Galra it’s less about the number of partners, but fidelity to your mate or mates. For Alteans it comes down to a relationship model of trust and communication. So, if your partner, or partners, weren’t comfortable with spontaneous couplings, or not being told about an affair, a breech of that trust could be the cause of a relationship splitting apart.”

“It makes sense when you break it down like that. I just don’t think Earth knows how to digest all of that, so it’s being spread about as a salacious thing,” Shirogane said. 

“It is in a lot of galaxies that lean toward life-partnering like Earth. Between Altea and Daibazaal, though, it really isn’t a scandal, just… very embarrassing for Lotor and Allura.” Again Keith couldn’t hold his laughter back. “And knowing Lotor, I am completely enjoying his red face over this. I do feel a little bad for Lance getting thrown into it like he is, but from my end of things this is _very_ entertaining.” 

“I met Lance a few times,” Shirogane said, a grin spreading over his own face. “And I can say Lance probably brought some of this on himself too.” 

“I’ve interactive with him at dinners,” Keith said. “He absolutely did.” 

They fell back into that easy camaraderie from the night before after that, Shirogane’s introductions going smoothly. Keith showed him around the building, pointing out offices and Nobility to avoid, ones to reach out to, and of course where to actually get decent food. 

They were on their second _djirim_ , Shirogane moaning around his mouthful. “This is freaking amazing.” 

“It’s just _kal’ppa_ fish and our version of potatoes flash fried and stuffed in sweet bread,” Keith laughed. 

“Yeah, but you know that street food is literally the only thing that is absolutely stellar no matter what culture it comes from.” He unabashedly licked the hot and sour sauce Keith had talked them into off his fingers. “We should have this back on Earth.”

“I wish. My mom always complained about how _kal’ppa_ didn’t do well with interstellar travel. When I finally had it I understood. We should have you over, she makes an amazing roast with it.”

“I’d love to. If there’s anyone here who can help me out on navigating my position, it’d be your mother.” Shirogane finished off the last of his _djirim_ with a sigh. “I get that there are other kinds of that, but the _kal’ppa_ fish one is the best, I’m declaring it now. I don’t think any of the others could stand up.” 

“You haven’t had the fellar-beast one yet, but I’ll let you think that. Lunch is on you when you realize you’re wrong,” Keith said elbowing him. 

Shirogane gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’re the one who said we had to get the _kal’ppa!_ Don’t tell me you’ve sold me short here on _djirim_.” 

“Nah, this place does the best _kal’ppa djirim_ , or I would have told you to get the fellar. Plus fellar-beast isn’t really traditional, it’s just the easiest farmed meat in the system. I will say though that Galra know how to season it better than anyone else.” 

“I don’t doubt that. With mostly starchy vegetables native to here I’d think you know your way around spices.” 

Keith pushed up off the bench and motioned for Shirogane to follow. “C’mon, we need to grab some coffee.” 

Shirogane brushed off the front of his suit and stood. “I still can’t believe that of all things it’s coffee that ends up Earth’s main export. Though I’m not surprised we got all of the neighboring galaxies addicted.”

“There’s a similarly flavored tea here, so I think having the stronger version took off because of that. I’ve seen some planets that do weird shit with coffee. Luckily, we do not.” Keith took them down the street to an open air cafe that served as the caffeine and break hub for nearly the whole Kral Verax. 

Sal’s was huge, spanning what would usually be three shore fronts and operated more like a bar than a cafe. Keith elbowed his way up to the counter and flagged a barista, ordering two terra-teas and a plate of _amashtar_. 

“You can’t keep paying you know,” Shirogane said, frowning at the GAC Keith handed over. 

“Call it hospitality, you can get me back if we get through your introduction to Zarkon without incident.” The plate of _amashtar_ came out and Keith handed it to Shiro, instructing him to try and find open seats. 

Their drinks in hand a few minutes later, Keith wandered around trying to find him. Eyes were on him as he did, something that wasn’t rare given his class and notoriety as Krolia’s son, but there were more than usual, and they came with whispers. 

He found Shirogane tucked in a corner behind two old men who could be asleep how still they were. He slid in easily enough and handed Shirogane his drink. “ _Hamid_ tea and coffee together with sweet cream, best thing that came out of our alliance. Did you have any of the _amashtar_ yet?” 

Shirogane wasn’t looking at him, though, his face instead tilted up toward the bar. “Are we pretending that didn’t just happen then?” 

“What didn’t happen?” 

Shirogane nodded at where he was looking and Keith was forced to follow his gaze. The screens there were inaudible over the din of people in the cafe, but the ticker tape was more than enough to explain. His face was one of six on the side of the screen, on the other side was The Archivist, stern face set and mouth moving. Below read _Twelve candidates announced, among them Lord Yorak, half-Terran son of…_

Keith felt the ground fall out from underneath him. He’d completely forgotten that the announcements were today, and wished he’d fought his mother harder on being out here with Shirogane. He felt every single eye on him now, watching him, waiting to see what an _Imperial Candidate_ would do out here at a cafe with the new Terran Ambassador. He’d faced F.O.P. cells with less trepidation. 

In his panic he’d also lost the ambassador he was supposed to be tailing. Panic filled him up to his neck and he nearly started physically searching for him when the man popped back up, to go cups and a bag in hand. Without a word he took their drinks, poured them into the cups, and dumped the _amashtar_ into the bag. 

“Let’s go have this in the office? I think I need some quiet before my introduction.” 

Keith nodded dumbly and found himself following Shirogane back to the embassy suites instead of the other way around. He didn’t have the wherewithal to truly appreciate that Shirogane was navigating everything as if he hadn’t just learned it all that morning, easily weaving them around people and halls until Keith was seated on the other side of his desk, warm cup in hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I forgot the announcement was today and it caught me off guard. I should have thought that you might not want to have coffee in public and instead prepare for the meeting this afternoon.” He stared down into his drink, unable to look up at Shirogane. 

“I… Lord Yorak no, I’m fine. I thought…” Shirogane cleared his throat and Keith saw his face twist up. “Forgive me if I read it wrong, but it looked like _you_ needed to get out of there. I figured you could use me as an excuse.” 

“Oh,” was all Keith could say, his head still in shreds about the fact that his every move was about to be under mass scrutiny. 

“Ack—oh my _god_ what is this!”

Across the desk Shirogane was coughing, half an _amashtar_ in his metal hand, coffee cup in the other sucking down the drink. 

Keith bit his lip, laughter bubbling in his chest. “It’s dried _amash_ fruit covered rock sugar. We call it _amashtar,_ or sweetened _amash_.” 

“And _amash_ fruit is what? Pure critic acid and, god, how is it _spicy_ too?” Shirogane smacked his lips a couple of time, face completely pinched in disgust. 

Keith couldn’t help it, he started full on belly laughing. “It is kinda closer to a pepper I guess, oh my god, your face. I’m sorry I thought you’d like it after the sour and spicy sauce!” 

“That was sauce on a sandwich not a chunk of pure hellfire, oh my god.” He tilted his head back, eyes welling. “It’s still burning, how do you eat that.” 

“The rock sugar is supposed to temper it,” Keith said, still laughing. 

“Well it _did not_. You can keep buying me lunch this whole movement, you owe me for not giving me warning about that. Goddamn.” Shirogane shoved the bag at Keith and turned instead to his drink, chugging down half in one go. “Now that, that is good. You can keep getting me these, but no more _amash_ -hell, please.” 

Keith couldn’t stop giggling, taking a piece of dried fruit for himself and obnoxiously popping it into his mouth whole for Shirogane to watch. The man pretended to gag as Keith chewed and swallowed it, completely used to the burn down his throat. “And here I thought you were a human above the rest. Cut from a cloth to stand up to Galran culture, such a disappointment.”

Shirogane waved him off. “You can’t kick me off world just because my tongue isn’t made of steel like yours.” 

“Oh I can, didn’t you hear? I’m up for next Emperor, I need to start making my mark around here.” The joke felt forced, but it felt better to joke about it than dive back into the panic still circling his heart. 

“I’m telling them all you slept with Espinosa, too,” Shirogane threatened over the edge of his coffee cup. 

Keith popped another fruit into his mouth. “Oh god, actually please, do that, I beg you. It might get the Archivist to take me off the list. Can you maybe get something photoshopped?” 

Shirogane shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Only if I thought they’d believe it. Looks like you’ve made more of a name for yourself than you let on last night.” The joking mirth was fading from his eyes. “Seriously though, I thought you said they’d never pick someone half?” 

Keith took a sip of his coffee, unable to look at Shirogane. He debated it, knew that it was a bad idea, but the news would be out soon enough. Once that announcement hit, his old career was over, Kolivan had made that clear it would be irreversible before his last mission. 

That and something in him trusted this man implicitly, he wasn’t sure what it was, but his instincts told him Shirogane was safe. “They wouldn’t, not normally. But like I told you last night I had a hard time adjusting here, at first. I needed to prove myself, and if not to everyone I needed to at least show myself that I was more than what everyone said I was.” He trailed a finger around the edge of his cup. “I joined the Blade of Marmora.” 

He waited to see if Shirogane reacted and he did, eyes going wide and jaw dropping. “I see you know of us?” 

Shirogane closed his mouth and cleared his throat. “I fought against Sendak on the front lines, in battles with Blades so yes, I know of you.” 

That was news to Keith. Their battles alongside Terrans were all very limited and very bloody, meaning that Shirogane had seen some of the worst of the war. Keith’s eyes flicked to Shirogane’s metal hand and away, trying not to stare and knowing better than to press for details. 

“My work with them caught the eye of the Elders. They’re the only Assembly that knows explicitly about our missions. I’d hoped to keep working covertly, but with this announcement I’ve been stripped of that ability. I won’t be able to do anything but civilian work and remote intelligence collection and I…” Keith growled under his breath and tried to collect his frustration. “It’s not what I wanted. I never campaigned for this, they just decided I should be up there and I have no idea why. There are more important things I could be doing out there for people who need real, on the ground help, than sitting in here and looking over paperwork.” He caught himself and grimaced. “Sorry I don’t mean, I’m not trying to belittle work like this.” 

Shirogane leaned back, expression thoughtful. “No I understand. There’s a difference in helping in the front lines and helping from behind a desk. They’re both worthwhile though, if you can play the game right. That’s what my years after the war back on Earth taught me. Our Galaxy got hit hard on the edges, as you know. And a lot of refugees came to use when it was all over. Outside of relief efforts there was so much infrastructure that needed ironing out, and for that there needed to be laws and treaties and all of these other things in place that you don’t ever think of. Roadblocks from old pieces of documents that could bite the help you’re trying to give in the ass if you’re not careful. 

“Maybe it doesn’t feel as real,” Shirogane said. “But it doesn’t make it less important, or needed. And having people who _have_ been out there pushing the paperwork makes a huge difference. More than I ever thought. I never thought I’d be here either, Lord Yorak, but I know I ended up here because people thought they needed me to be here, and if that’s how I can help now, I’m going to try. We’re still putting this universe back together after a madman tore through it, and we need people on all fronts with wide experiences to do that.”

Keith pulled out another fruit and chewed it slowly. “I get that, I do. But this isn’t just any political position they have me up for.”

“Can you refuse?” 

Keith shook his head. “Not easily, no. And forfeiting isn’t an option either, it usually triggers a second Kral Zera, deeming the first one inconclusive.”

Shirogane took this in and thought on it for so long Keith wondered if conversation was dead from here. At length he said, “Well, at least it isn’t to the death anymore.” 

Keith barked out a laugh, and at Shirogane’s wry look laughed even harder. Shirogane laughed too, and Keith was truly glad for the first time that he got strong-armed into this mission. 

*

Meeting the Emperor and Empress had been a lesson in assumptions for Shiro. Every other introduction had been stiff, formal, and practiced, but contrary to image, Zarkon and Honvera had been nearly warm in their reception. Honvera was to the point and blunt as she asked him about his new appointment, but not unkind. Zarkon in turn had praised his feats of battle and thanked him for his service. After a full day of rigid Galra class lines, it had been unexpected. 

“We’re not all so set in our ways,” Yorak had laughed, stirring the still wide eyed Shiro out of the throne room and past the multitude of guards. “You really should come to dinner, my mother would love to talk with you and I think maybe help steer you better in learning customs.”

“Was I that bad?” Shiro squeaked. 

Yorak shook his head. “No, no you were fine just… stiff. I think we need to get you unstiff.” 

“Might be _hard_ to do.” The pun slipped out before Shiro could think. Beside him Yorak was stopped and Shiro felt a hot flush crawl up his neck. “Oh, oh my god I’m so—”

Yorak abruptly doubled over, first stuffed against his mouth, eyes wet with tears and mirth. He shook his head and in and entirely human move flipped Shiro off. 

Shiro snorted, if only to try and keep his own laugher in—they were still in the royal offices—and wiggled his eyebrows at Yorak. 

Yorak slapped his arm and waked ahead, still shaking with laughter, the sight warming something in Shiro’s gut he was now sure he wasn’t going to be able to put the breaks on. 

Settling in the position came with some issues that Shiro hadn’t anticipated. He knew from Sam who he needed to make nice with quickly, he knew what the Garrison wanted to see out of him in regards to policy, and he knew that he needed to prove himself to the Galra he worked with that he was someone to respect. He didn’t realize that protocol between classes was so regimented, or that even slight variants in posture and syntax could have the person he was getting his morning coffee from grimace and politely correct him. He’d solicited Yorak for help there, which had turned into an entire evening at Lady Krolia’s home with her son and, inexplicably, Lord Kolivan. The now semi-regular dinners with Lady Krolia and her son were helping in that regard, but exacerbating his other pressing issue. 

Work stuff he could deal with, it was the yawning need choking him out that he hadn’t seen coming. Galra, on a whole, did something for him he didn’t realize he’d been looking for in potential partners and it was making his resolve to remain above board with all interactions for a year, very, very hard to to keep. 

Every relationship he’d ever been in, Shiro had been the bigger partner. Even as a kid Shiro had been big, and when the disease hit he’d bulked out to keep his muscles in check. So at six-foot-four and the relative mass of a body builder he usually ended up being the one hauling his partners up, or if they tried they strained something. 

Here though, _here_ , he was at best on the smaller side, if not completely dwarfed at times, and it was bringing out an almost physical ache to be held, taken care of, made the small and protected one. Just knowing that he could be easily cradled by any of the men passing him by was enough to send his desire for physical affection into overdrive. 

It did not help that he was very divorced, and that there had been next to no physical interaction in over a year. Nights were cold and lonely in a bed the size of a swimming pool, which his tactile personality and PTSD were not taking kindly to. 

Hence internal drooling over literally every guy he encountered while he was anywhere _but_ in his apartment alone. Matt had commented on it already, within the first day of his arrival three weeks ago. 

“Man, this planet is a fucking buffet for you, isn’t it?” 

Shiro had smacked him in the arm, _hard_. Unfortunately he couldn’t bring himself to do the same with Pidge, who cheerily chimed in that she could always hack the system and vet any potential fuck buddy Shiro was looking into. 

“I’m not looking for a fuck buddy!” He’d hissed at them. 

They’d shrugged. “You should be, you need to let off some stress big time, man.” 

Shiro shook the thought from his head and pushed into the Kral Verax, weaving around a mass of beings that hit all his needy points at little too well. 

“Shirogane!” 

The steel thermos was nearly crushed in his hand at that voice. What had started as an innocuous crush had spiraled in the matter of a month and a half and Shiro was helpless to stop it at this point. 

Sure, Yorak wasn’t twice Shiro’s size. Shiro could probably fit both hands around his waist fingertip to fingertip, but it didn’t negate the fact that Yorak could still haul Shiro up and over his shoulder like a goddamn pillow without breaking a sweat. 

That had been a lesson in “why not to take a Blade member up on a friendly sparring session”. 

Shiro turned to see Yorak bouncing up to him, long braid tailing behind him, yet again in that red _kathi_ that made Shiro’s insides melt. “Hey, you’re here early.” 

Yorak rolled his eyes and slowed up to stand just in front of Shiro. “The Upper Assembly is meeting about timelines for the Kral Zera and I need to be there as a candidate.” There had been a lot of those meetings since the announcement which had resulted in Yorak hiding in Shiro’s office at least three times a week while he dodged reporters, politicians, and on occasion his mother. 

“Ah, I take it that I’m getting the _djirim_ today and you’ll be by later to eat it at my desk and bitch?” 

Yorak sighed and shook his head. “Only if I don’t storm out of there and invade your office before then. Do you think Earth will harbor me if I kill them all? I am half human.” 

Shiro chuckled. “I might be in a meeting with Sai, but you know Matt will keep you entertained while I’m busy.” 

Yorak nodded, then something unreadable passed over his face and her averted his gaze. “Um, hey, are you doing anything with the days off coming up?”

The air in his chest stilled and he felt his heart stutter to a stop. The way Yorak tugged on the end of his braid and a slim canine worried at his lip had Shiro spiraling into fantasies he only let himself have alone in that too big bed. “Nothing in particular, why?”

“Well, I was going to take the Wolf out to Ifa for a couple of nights. I know you said the other day you wanted to get out to see the moons off of Hestar Five, and I finally don’t have anything scheduled so…” he shrugged and looked up at Shiro with those impossibly violet eyes. 

Shiro was sure that he would drown in those eyes one day, just fall in and never come back out. “Yeah, no that sounds great. I’d love to get out of here for a little bit.” 

Yorak’s whole face lit up, almost like he was surprised by Shiro’s response, smile spreading slow and bright over his face. “Great! Okay, I’ll get plans going, probably during this meeting,” he grimaced. “Speaking of, I need to get going, but I’ll message later when I’m out.” 

“Or when you escape,” Shiro teased. Yorak just smiled, backing up a couple of paces before turning and taking off toward the Greater Assembly halls. 

Shiro floated to his office, nervous and elated that he’d be spending full days with Yorak, days out on a remote moon lush with nature and an aurora that was galaxy renown. He was so, so very fucked. 

“Oh boy, boss got to see his favorite Emperor-to-be on the way in this morning.” 

Shiro didn’t even acknowledge Matt and went right into his office. Matt barged in after him, heedless of any sort of hierarchy between them, flopping down into a chair and draping himself over it dramatically.

“Oh Lord Yorak, let me run my fingers through your inky silk hair and simper like a fool!” 

“Matt, knock it off.” 

Pidge poked their head in, “are we making fun of Shiro and his crush?” 

“Lord Yorak! Your eyes remind me of the grapes back on Earth, and I’d make a whole vineyard of your sparkling orbs!” 

“ _Matt_.” 

“Ambassador!” Pidge swooned in, just as dramatic as their brother. “Your silver hair reminds me of moonbeams on a starry night in which I could luxuriate for _ages_.” 

“That sounds nothing like him,” Shiro sighed, resigning himself to a full dramatization of himself and Yorak. 

“Yeah but it’s what you’re dopey eyes say each time you look at each other,” Pidge said. “I don’t know why you haven’t asked him out yet, you’re both stupidly gone.” They dumped a stack of files onto his desk. “Your meeting with Sai got canceled, he needed to head home for a quorum vote on a treaty with their neighbor.” 

Shiro pulled the files over and flipped through them. “Okay, see if I can get in that meeting with Ikex then about the new trade routes.” Pidge was silent. When Shiro looked up they were sharing a look with Matt. “What, what is it?”

“There’s someone else that wants to meet with you, actually,” Pidge said nervously. 

“Someones.” Matt amended. 

“Who?” Shiro set the file down and leaned forward. “What happened?” 

Pidge got up and closed the door to his private office, hitting the soundproofing button too. “It’s Lance. Lance and the Prince and Princess, they asked to see you as soon as you were free.” They came back over and pulled a file out from the middle of the stack, clearly earmarked now that Shiro could see it. 

He took the file and flipped it open, reading over the correspondence between Pidge and Lance. They were friends, Shiro had found out, but this was a professional back and forth between them, not the banter he frequently heard on voice calls.

They wrung their hands together. “I thought you could try and do it today, it… he told me personally what it was about, and it’s important, Shiro.” 

Shiro closed the file and leaned back in his chair. “Am I going to them, or are they coming here?” 

“Going there would cause less uproar, I think,” Matt said. “I already outlined a schedule for it, and Pidge moved everything so that your afternoon is flexible.” 

Shiro thought about Yorak, stuck in the meeting, and his promise of having lunch waiting for him. He’d understand, though, if Shiro told him who had summoned him. 

The Royal wing was deep within the building behind several guarded doors, but with descreet privarte access out the back for the family. Shiro vividly remembered the process of getting back to the offices with Yorak, the Imperial Guard staring down at him like one wrong breath would leave him nothing more than a laser burn on the floor. 

It was worse now, walking alone without an escort through the halls. Instead of the throne room, where Zarkon and Honerva had received him kindly, he was directed to an anteroom and then through another set of doors that closed loudly behind him. 

He was in a sitting room, small but with huge windows letting in the morning light. Sitting on a sofa was Prince Lotor, relaxed and regal with an arm around Lance Espinosa. 

“Ambassador.” Shiro’s attention was pulled to Princess Allura, her cloud-like hair spilling out over bare shoulders and a long lilac dress. She extended an elegant hand to him. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” He said, shaking her hand. “I don’t think I could refuse this.” 

“Why? I refuse Lance all the time,” Lotor chuckled. 

Lance groaned and knocked his head on Lotor’s shoulder. “Can you not make fun of me for like, two dobashes?”

“Darlings,” Allura chided, fondness radiating out of her. “Please,” she gestured to one of the empty chairs, “take a seat.” 

Shiro did, looking over at Lance with a slight nod. He knew Lance, and met him a few times back on Earth, but they’d never interacted for long periods of time. Even after a full month of the affair being in the news and slowly dying down there was still considerable chatter about it. Thanks to Pidge, Shiro was one of the few people who knew that it was slightly more than an affair. 

“Forgive me, Ambassador, my time with this one has left me vulnerable to relaxing too much around Terrans.” Lotor’s drawl was anything but apologetic, but Shiro knew to expect Lotor’s casual air of affluence from talking with Keith. 

“No offense taken, I prefer relaxed settings if they’re achievable,” he said. “I assume I’m here because a decision has been made.”

“More like a forgone conclusion,” Lotor said grinning down at Lance. Lance squirmed in his seat and shot a pleading look at Allura. 

Allura cleared her throat. “Lotor, stop teasing.” She rolled her eyes and turned to Shiro. “Yes, we have, though we did, as Lotor implied, reach it a long time ago. We are ready to move forward with it, and now so are our families. All involved.”

Shiro looked between them and then it clicked. He knew his face was splitting open with shock but he couldn’t help it. “You mean to say that… the three of you…”

“Will be getting married, instead of just Allura and myself, yes.” Lotor’s face softened as he looked at Lance. “We knew from the moment we met him, I think, but one must be careful with these things.” 

Lance, for all his clear nerves, sat up straighter. “I know that it’s going to put a strain on your office,” he said to Shiro. “So we wanted to give you a heads up and loop you in on the formalities so it won’t be as much cleanup as when the story broke as this last time.” 

“I still can’t believe you didn’t check second story windows,” Allura muttered. 

Lotor leaned forward, mouth open to retort but Lance pushed him back with ease. “ _However it happened,_ ” he said looking between them, “it wasn’t how we’d talked about it happening and we want to make sure that _this_ reveal goes smoothly.” 

“I appreciate that,” Shiro said. “And I think it can now. I’ve been getting close with a few people here and I think I can help explain the cultural dynamics to Earth, and perhaps similarly-minded systems.”

Lotor gave him a peculiar look, like he wanted to say something to Shiro, but Allura and Lance launched into dates and announcements before he could. Shiro had the distinct feeling he’d been saved from something in that. 

The talk lasted almost into the afternoon, a detailed press plan spread out between the four of them by the end of it. Lotor’s personal secretary had popped in and out several times to take notes and send messages to need-to-know parties. Shiro had conference called with Pidge more than once too, triple checking dates so that nothing was happening around already existing events. The biggest headache was that the Elder Assembly was hellbent on carrying out the Kral Zera as soon as possible.

Shiro was moving to collect his things, having thanked the others for the meeting and wishing Lance luck, when Lotor cornered him. 

“And how is Yorak doing, Ambassador?” 

Shiro dropped the strap to his bag. “I’m sorry?”

Lotor smiled down at him like a predator, nearly feral. “Dear Yorak, I’ve heard you two have grown close since your arrival?”

“Oh, ah, yes he’s doing well I think. Been um, very helpful to me.” Shiro cleared his throat and grabbed his bag again. 

Lotor smirked, like he knew exactly what was going through Shiro’s head and Shiro braced himself for the snide comment, the inevitable reprimand. Instead Lotor said, “That’s good to hear, he’s fairly oblivious to most things, Ambassador, especially when it concerns his personal life and not galavanting off to be an anti-hero. Take care of him, would you? This Kral Zera business is bound to wind him up like a malliv-spider would an insect, and it’s nice to see him take interest in someone finally, he’s in desperate need of a partner.” 

Shiro was sure he felt his heart explode in his chest. “Your Majesty,” he said with all the authority he could muster in the moment, “I’m flattered, and forgive me if I’ve inferred incorrectly, but Lord Yorak and I are just friends. Though I am very glad to have him as a friend here, please be assured of that, and I’ll look out for him as much as I can.” 

Lotor frowned, studying him for a too-long moment. “Hmm, you know Ambassador, I’m rarely wrong on these matters.” He sighed. “But I’ll take your word for it. In any case, do see that he doesn’t implode on us? He may listen to you more than he does us.”

Shiro was certain he was gaping like a fish, trying to put a response together, when Lance came over and bodily pushed Lotor back. “Lotor, stop giving him the shovel talk! He’s got other things to do. Shiro, sorry about that, he’s been dying to give you that speech since you and Keith started hanging out. Which, I approve of by the way, he needs someone to pull the stick out of his ass. We’ll see you later okay? Thanks again!” Lance all but marched Lotor out of the room, Allura apologetically following her two boys. 

Shiro stood there, now alone in the parlor, staring down the prospect of a weekend alone with a man people seemed to think he might be dating. 

*

“Lord Yorak if I could—”

“I’m so sorry but I have to get going, I have a meeting I’ve been putting off and I should get to it while I still have an afternoon free.” Keith pushed past Lord Uthyr and ignored the other man calling his name as he bolted out of the hall. 

It was a little earlier than when most people took lunch but he didn’t care, Shirogane had said he could hide in his offices and he was going to do just that. The logical part of him said that there wasn’t any need to, his reports to Kolivan and dinners at _his house_ had more than proven Shirogane was no threat. The problem was that he _liked_ Shirogane, quite a bit actually, and possibly more than he was really supposed to. The camping trip this weekend had been his idea alone and merely to spend more time with the man. 

Three nights prior at a private dinner Lotor had capitalized on the chance to tease Keith about their retreat. 

“You realize the implications of an invitation like that, don’t you dear cousin?” Lotor had simpered. 

Keith had remained quiet on the topic, not even correcting Lotor for calling him a cousin, and instead got to witness Lotor _and_ Lance talk at length about wooing Shirogane, who Lance apparently knew. 

“He was a _god_ at the Garrison. No one could pilot like him, and I mean _no one_. I looked up to him as a cadet, still do honestly.” Lance had gushed on ad nauseam until he looked Keith dead in the eye, something he’d only started doing since the three of them had returned to Daibazaal and said, “But don’t fuck it up man, he’s special, okay? He means a lot to people on Earth and in a lot of Galaxies.”

Most of the dinner had passed by the time Keith realized the entire table, which was thankfully just the four of them at that point, was under the impression that Keith and Shirogane had a _thing_ going on. 

Now… now he was still pushing into the man’s office to have lunch with him and enjoy his company before taking an extended vacation together. Keith shook himself. They’d known each other for less than two movements and they were both in precarious political positions; he’d carry on their friendship and nothing more unless Shirogane indicated otherwise. 

“Lord Yorak! Good to see you.”

“Holt,” he greeted, leaning against the desk. Down the hall Shirogane’s door was closed. “The office is dark, is he out?” 

“One, it really is okay to call me Matt, you call Pidge, Pidge. And two,” Holt cleared his throat. “He got called into a meeting with the Prince and Princess. He told me to let you know and to say he was sorry if he missed lunch. We’re not sure when they’ll finish up.” 

Keith took in this information and examined it from all sides. The biggest thing this said was that Lotor and Allura were completely serious about marrying Lance, which Keith was only slightly annoyed by. What it said to Keith and Keith alone was that Lotor was in a situation where he could easily carry out threatening Shirogane about hurting Keith like he’d implied he wanted to do the other night. 

A strangled noise lurched out from the back of his throat. 

“That was our reaction too,” Holt said. “You’re welcome to wait for him here, but I seriously think it could be a while yet.” 

Keith moved from the desk to stand in the room, contemplating. He was greatly tempted to flee from the office and return home, wait out the potential repercussions from Lotor there in safety. 

Would it be so bad though if to have his growing affection known? Through the last few phoebs Shirogane had proven himself to be a kind but shrewd politician, creating alliances in a short time that helped him garner more trade negotiations than most of his standing. There were amendments made to Daibazaal and Earth’s agreement that benefitted them both while also bringing Earth up within the eyes of the system. Beyond that Shirogane had been active in several committees dedicated to helping systems still recovering from Sendak’s rampage, often letting Earth be the leading planet in supplies and support. The noble offer was met happily, and rarely did the members question the price asked of Earth’s aid, given that in the galactic scale it was so small. Keith however knew that Earth was still young, and the currency that they gained was worth more than in some established systems. What truly floored him though was when he’d asked Shirogane about the costs, and Shirogane had smiled and told him that they would be used to help preserve and replenish Earth’s resources. 

The man was a tactical nightmare forging his way across alliances to put his planet at the forefront post war while single-mindedly staying true to a goal of _aid_. 

It wasn’t a stretch to say that Keith was now very much turned on by the idea of watching Shirogane in a conference room holding court. 

“Lord Yorak?”

Keith startled and looked back at Holt. “Right, um, I’ll stick around for a little bit, there are some briefings I need to read. Is it all right if I…?” He gestured to the darkened office where a very nice sofa lived. 

Holt nodded, a twinkle in his eye, and buzzed the door open. Keith went in without looking at Holt again, afraid of the knowledge he’d see in those eyes. 

Inside the office Keith was reminded too of what Shirogane would do for those he truly counted as ‘his own’. The sofa had appeared after Pidge had curled up on the floor to take a nap during an all nighter. The small refrigerator had been hauled into after Keith had been called away during lunch and there hadn’t been a decent place to store his food. Stashes of snacks were all around the office for Matt, who forgot to eat when he was focused on something, and there were shelves of atlases and culture books spanning several galaxies for Shirogane’s own research on the people he worked with, so that he could better interact with them. Keith let his fingers trail over the spot on the desk where Shirogane’s notebook usually sat, open to a page of scrawled notes on etiquette and new words and languages. Ideas for treaties or coalition projects. Keith had tried to make sense of the spiderweb of words one day and instead ended up lost in the spiral of Shirogane’s constantly churning mind. 

Keith envied his ease to be in the spotlight, his smooth movement through these motions that dictated the lives of the universe. He wasn’t so sauve, too blunt to move through the dance without crushing a million toes in his way. He’d never cared about stepping on them before, but now he was starting to see why it was best to find your rhythm among the other dancers and it left him yearning to learn and scared of what it would lead him to. 

He walked from the desk and flopped onto the sofa, pulling up the recent mission briefs on his datapad. This was what he knew—the dance of bodies against other bodies and time. 

A hand on his shoulder ripped him from sleep, blade in his hand before he could open his eyes. 

“Woah! Hey, it’s just me!” 

Keith blinked, eyes darting around his surroundings—closed room, dim lights, he was laying prone on a soft surface—he groaned and flopped back onto the sofa. “Fuck.”

“You okay?” Shirogane was leaning over him, silver eyes filled with concern. 

“Yeah,” Keith rasped and threw an arm over his eyes. “Sorry, I was reading mission reports and started dreaming about missions themselves. Sorry.”

Shirogane squeezed his shoulder tenderly and Keith had to resist groaning again. “It’s okay, we all get those dreams.” Shirogane’s hand left his shoulder slowly, like he didn’t want to totally let go of Keith until he was sure he was okay. Knowing Shirogane he probably was incredibly concerned right then. 

“Thanks,” Keith croaked and forced himself to sit up and gather himself. “I didn’t think I’d fall asleep that easily during a mission readout.” 

Shirogane chuckled. “You’d be surprised what stress can make you sleep through. I’m turning the lights on.”

Keith blinked against the brightness even with the warning. “I’m not more stressed than usual,” he protested. His joint protested sitting up after falling asleep scrunched on the sofa, shoulders stiff in that pinched way that meant severe stretching or risk awkward movements for two days after. He rolled the one shoulder, trying to dislodge the rapidly forming knot. 

“Was the meeting that bad?” 

“Worse,” he grunted. He noticed something in Shirogane’s hand before he registered the smell coming from it. “You got lunch.”

“Well, afternoon snack at this point, but Matt messaged me that you were in the office. Figured we could both use some greasy comfort food after our mornings.” He set the bag on the desk, rifling through the cabinet for the plates he kept there for lunches like this. “At least you got out of yours before I did.”

“I heard,” Keith said. His mouth was watering at the smell of _djirim_. “How was it?”

“Intimidating until Lance started talking more. For all of his on-the-surface idiocy he’s really very astute when he needs to be, and he balances those two in a way I’m not sure I was supposed to witness.” He pulled the food out and plated it up, two SANDWHICH each and a heaping portion of fried _ifar_ peppers that Keith had finally convinced him to try two weeks ago. 

“Did you get the—”

“Terrible cheese sauce that I shouldn’t encourage you to eat? Yes.” Shirogane pulled out the to-go cup of melted Flaxian cheese and wiggled it at Keith. “I don’t know how you eat these together, bitter-spicy-sour mess that’s what this is.”

“You just need to expand your palate more,” Keith quipped. “Everything else with the meeting went well then?”

“It did. They’re moving forward, which I’m sure you know,” Shirogane said. His face pinched and he sat down, twirling a fried pepper between his fingers in thought. “Lance called you something I hadn’t heard before.” He said it carefully, clearly testing the waters with the statement. 

Keith’s breath stilled in his throat. “He likes to do that to annoy me during formal dinners, but what was it?”

Shirogane cleared his throat. “Keith. He kept um, calling you Keith?” 

The sound of his given name rolling off of Shirogane’s tongue was nothing short of a sin, and he was going to bend Lance’s arms into pretzels for giving Shirogane the power before Keith could mentally prepare himself for it. “Yes,” is what he said. “That’s my given name, my first name, actually. Yorak is part of my formal title.”

Shirogane made an ‘oh’ face and then frowned. “He shouldn’t call you that.” 

“No, but Lotor does so he does too. I stopped trying to fight it.” He swallowed against his nerves. “You can use it, if you want. I… I’d like to think we’re friends enough for that.” The flush across his face grew hotter with every word. If one of the Blade’s many enemy organizations decided to take him out right then and there he’d be all right with that. 

Shirogane’s eyebrows went up. “Oh-oh. I um… yes, if you’re okay with it I—yes I think we’re um friends enough—I—Shiro.” He cleared his throat again and with more confidence said, “You can call me Shiro if you want to, that’s what most everyone I’m close to calls me.” 

Keith smiled. He’d heard the moniker before, but explicit permission to call Shirogane _Shiro_ felt like a step he couldn’t and didn’t want to take back. “Shiro,” he said, the shortened name curling around his heart in a way the longer version never did. 

Shiro coughed and crammed the pepper in his mouth. “We should get on these while they’re hot.” 

*

In the days before their trip, Shiro managed to not look up the rules about dating as a dignitary and resolutely did not look up anything about Lady Krolia and the human husband she took while acting as Daibazaal Ambassador on Earth. He thought about it about once an hour but he did not actually do it. 

He looked up camping gear instead when he was tempted and found that he was completely out of his depth for interstellar camping. Did his tent need to be acid proof or lava proof? How many air tanks would he need and was there a chance of a flock Pn’llian air-swimmers descending upon them?

He expressed his concern to Matt and Pidge, simply because it was on his mind, and prompted the two into a terrifying research venture. 

“It looks like three of the rivers are sulfuric—do you know where on the moon you’ll be?”

“That will also determine how possible it is for you to freeze to death, so I’d ask about what kind of heat sharing might need to happen.” 

“Are you ready for a Yng stampede if one happens?”

Shiro sat down and put his head in his hands. “Oh my god, what am I doing.”

“Matt. I think we broke him,” Pidge said. They came over and pushed at his shoulder ineffectively. “Yeah, he’s broken.” 

“Shiro, you’re going to Ifa, which has only one known predatory spices and it’s the size of a border collie. They are pack animals that hunt only at night. The atmosphere is fine, and it actually has normal rain like on Earth.” 

Shiro looked up between his fingers to see Matt grinning like the asshole he was. “You were fucking with me.”

“Yes I was fucking with you. Pidge, Mom, and I all went camping there with dad right after he started his stint here, it’s really nice.” Matt leaned forward, expression easing. “You need to relax Shiro, it’s just camping with a friend.”

“A friend he wants to bang,” Pidge muttered. Shiro groaned into his hands. 

“Pidge,” Matt chided. “Shiro, just go and enjoy yourself. You’ve been working really hard without any kind of break. And it’s only going to get worse once the wedding announcement happens.”

Shiro thanked them both and left them for the remainder of his paperwork. Keith would be picking him up tonight to fly out. _Keith_. And if being able to call the other man by his given name wasn’t cutting him inside already, this camping trip would. 

“You’ve been through worse, Takashi.” He took the closest stack of paper and started mowing through it. “It’s just a camping trip.”

The afternoon flew by and Shiro got kicked out by Matt and Pidge to go pack a list of actually helpful things for the trip. 

“I messaged Keith too, you don’t have to get anything but what’s on this list,” Pidge said, patting Shiro’s chest. 

“But—when—I could have—”

“Yes, but you didn’t because you’re still overthinking things, so I told him you mentioned you weren’t sure what to pack and probably would forget to text him.” They smiled, eyes glinting. “You’re welcome. Now get out, we can cover the rest of this.”

The way home was familiar enough now that Shiro did it on autopilot, going over the list Matt forwarded him until he bumped his nose into his front door. He pawed at the lock pad and stumbled through, packing in a haze of nerves. 

Using more personal names for each other had made each interaction between Shiro and Keith new and vulnerable in a way he didn’t know what to do with. Lunch the day before had been almost shy, something that it hadn’t been since the first few weeks. Stolen glances and small smiles that made Shiro’s stomach drop in a way it hadn’t in a very, very long time. 

Stuffing his clothes into a duffle bag wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep him from thinking of a full three days getting to be with Keith. His mind supplied daydreams of getting to see his hair down, or in more casual clothes than his formalwear. Maybe they’d swim together in one of the rivers, or get caught in a rainstorm, hair wet around that gorgeous face—

“Duke Yorak of Privak, front door.” The home system announced. 

“Fuck.” Shiro looked over his haphazard packing and hoped he hadn’t missed anything on the list, reassuring himself he’d paid attention to the toiletries packing first. “System open door.”

“Kosmo no!”

Shiro jumped at Keith shouting in his entranceway and didn’t have to wait to find out why. He found himself fending off slobbery kisses from a space wolf before Keith was even done shouting. 

“Augh! Kosmo, get off,” Shiro laughed and pushed the wolf down. “Down boy, I’ll pamper you plenty, just calm down.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Shiro! I thought he’d behave.” Keith skidded into the room and unleashed a harsh string of Galran that did _things_ to Shiro. 

He had to swallow a whimper to speak. “He’s fine, just excited. When was the last time you were able to take him out like this?” 

Keith shook his head, keeping a hand on Kosmo’s neck to keep him down. “A pheob, at least. Missions were back to back for a while.” He looked to Shiro’s duffle bag on the bed. “You ready to go? I know Matt asked for a list, but I can help if the list didn’t make sense?”

Shiro grabbed the duffle bag and willed his nerves to chill out. “No, no the list was great! I think I’m ready, unless there was something else that I needed?” 

“Not a thing, I’ve got the rest. Mom used to take me out there a lot after we first moved back. We’ve actually got a lot of private property on the Tyxa River, so the campsite is ready to go. Just need us and the gear.” 

“Let’s go then.” 

Keith had driven his personal ship to Shiro’s, getting clearance to land on the private roof the day before. Shiro hadn’t seen the ship yet, but Keith had been talking up ‘Red’ to him for weeks. The ship on his building roof lived up to all expectations. She was slender, sleek, and looked like she could tear a hole through an asteroid on speed alone. Her angles spoke of Galra fighters, pointed and sharp, but her engines were clearly made for long range travel. 

Keith was grinning ear to ear. “You can pick your jaw up now.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shiro breathed, trying to sound less affected. “She’s pretty but I haven’t seen how she handles yet.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” Keith bounced off and climbed lithely into the ship, Kosmo opting to teleport inside. Shiro readjusted his bag and followed after. 

Inside the ship was just as sleek, clever hidden storage everywhere and actually serviceable pullout bunks all within an extended cockpit. 

“There’s a shield that comes down during flight, and if that system fails there’s a manual steel drop down. Shower and bathroom is one floor below.” He pointed out the slim stairwell on the port side. “Extra storage down there in the hull too.” 

“Nice specs,” Shiro said. “Still haven’t shown me what she can do yet.” 

A feral smile crept over Keith’s face. “Let’s go.” 

He settled down next to Keith in the copilot chair and took stock of the controls as Keith moved fluidity through the pre-launch motions. Around them the ship hissed as it flipped gears from planetary travel to interstellar, extra shields engaging and engines roaring to life. Shiro felt more than heard the larger engines engage and he imagined they dropped down from where he’d seen them tucked against the hull. 

Keith gave him no warning before taking off, engaging the thrusters and lifting from the tarmac. In Garlan he cleared them for liftoff and Shiro could only hold on as the ship jolted up and sprung into the atmosphere. A loud woop surged out of him without thought, clouds breaking over their view and giving way to the space around Daibazaal in seconds. 

“Zero to sixty, huh.” Shiro breathed, body adjusting to the g-force enough to let him relax against the seat. 

“I told you she was one of the fastest in the Galaxy,” Keith said. He slowed her down enough to even them back out, artificial gravity taking affect a few moments later once they were out of orbit. 

“That was some showing off,” Shiro said. “But find me an asteroid belt and maybe I’ll be impressed, Lord Yorak.” The jab wasn’t supposed to sound like an innuendo but it did as it passed through his lips, voice gone rough in a way he hadn’t meant it too. Shiro swore he saw Keith’s eyes dilate as he said it, grip on the controls going tight, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to read into it any more than that. 

Keith tapped some coordinates into the ship’s navigator and turned that toothy smile on Shiro. “I think we have room for a minor detour.” 

*

Flying through an asteroid belt with Shiro beside him, hollering and cheering at every razor edge turn Keith made was exhilarating, letting Shiro take the helm and show off his own moves was devastating to any resolve Keith had left against the man. 

His piloting had been talked about in whispers at the Kral Verax, but up close Keith understood that this was a man who rivaled his own skills. How he’d ended up out here as an ambassador instead of a decorated pilot with the Garrison was beyond Keith. He was tempted to ask about Shiro’s roles in the war, but he’d seen enough Lords and politicians get shut down when they talked to Shiro about his service. 

So Keith let Shiro land and put the questions from his mind. He brought Shiro here to relax, not to satiate Keith’s curiosity and growing need to know everything about the man. The open wonder on Shiro’s face as he took in the moon wasn’t helping anything, the boyish grin the same one that smacked Keith upside the head that first day he’d shown Shiro around. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Shiro whispered, turning to Keith. 

Keith had to cough and look away. “This whole… park, I guess you can call it, is owned by my mother’s family, so we won’t be disturbed by anyone here. It spans most of the forest we flew over and the river too.” 

“How did that happen?” Shiro asked, eyes back to being glued out the window. “Shit, sorry, not to pry or anything—”

Keith laughed, settling a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Friends, remember? No official protocol here. And we got it by telling all of the other clans that wanted a chunk of it to fuck off.” 

Shiro unstrapped and stood up, his bulk making him curl over Keith in the cockpit, reminding him just how _big_ Shiro was. “Told them, huh?”

Keith swallowed and did his best to not squeak when he said, “The conversation may have been decidedly physical.” 

Shiro smirked and with grace a man of his stature should not have, maneuvered around Keith to collect their things. 

The campground was just like it had been in Keith’s childhood, stolen moments spent here with his father while Krolia worked on Daibazaal, sneaking a day or two out here with them when she could. She took them here after they’d wrapped their affairs on Earth. His father hadn’t had much family left, and Krolia had a clan that wanted her to lead back on the Galra homeworld. They’d spent close to a pheob here, hunting and looking up at the stars and taking turns crying. 

It had become his sanctuary ever since, where he would go after truly bad missions. He’d set up his tent in the exact same spot after the mission on Sendak’s cruiser, licking his wounds and processing the horror of that battle. 

“Keith?” 

He looked up from his too-tight grip on a pole, the memory of flashing lights, smoke, and sizzling flesh fading away. “Sorry, got caught up in my thoughts.” Shiro was holding up the travel refrigeration unit in the universal sign for ‘how the hell do I operate this?’ “Pull the lever on the bottom. It’ll expand on its down from there, but I’d recommend putting it down for that.” 

Shiro turned the box over and his face lit up when he saw the lever. It was like any other time he was delighted at something so small, so mundane like a sandwich, or a colorful sunset, little things that he took joy in. It reminded Keith of his father and long days in dappled forest sunlight on Earth. Warming something in him that had been put up and away in a chest that he didn’t think he’d touch again after his time in war.

Setting up camp highlighted just how intimate this trip was going to be. Since Shiro had no real gear, they’d decided on sharing one large tent, on top of already being in close proximity all weekend. Keith had initially worried that they would stray from each other in awkwardness, but instead they were complimenting each other, moving almost in sync through setting up. They chatted, and Keith dropped different ideas about what they could do while here. There was good hunting and fishing Shiro had expressed interest in when mentioned, but Keith knew that Shiro had also packed some fiction books to lose himself in, since he never had time to read anymore. Keith knew he’d be hiking and carving if he found any good downed wood. Another habit from his father that he tried to keep up with. 

Twilight was falling over the moon when they were finished, fire roaring and the fish Keith had caught roasting over the flame. Shiro was petting Kosmo, the Wolf happily panting and acting like he could fit in Shiro’s lap even remotely. 

“So, you bring all your friends out here?” Shiro asked. 

Keith was glad he was facing the fire, his blush hidden from Shiro. “No, just a few.”

“What, you didn’t bring Lance out here to get the shovel talk when he started dating Lotor and Allura?” Shiro chuckled. “I bet you could hide his body out here pretty easily.” 

“Lance,” Keith growled. 

Shiro laughed, leaning back against the log. “What, not actually a fan?” 

Keith could feel his teeth grinding. “He has no regard for social norms within Galra culture, and I know that he’s going to primarily be with Alteans but _still_. Lotor is Galra, and was raised in Daibazaal, he needs to learn protocol if he’s going to be part of the royal family, even if they become a Duchy. I mean he calls me Keith! I never said he could do that! You can’t just start _doing_ that! I don’t care how half-human I am.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Shiro shaking, trying not to laugh. “That, that must be very hard for you.”

Keith reached out and shoved him. “Oh shut up. He’s an annoying little shit and I can’t believe they’re both head over heels for him. I swear he sees me and thinks just because I’m half-human he gets to pester me.” 

Even from the ground Shiro wasn’t letting up on his laughter. “That might be why, could be nice for him to see someone that feels familiar while he’s trying to navigate being wed to _two_ royals. Or, he just likes annoying you. You’re pretty cute when you pout.” 

Keith shoved him again, effectively rolling Shiro over onto his stomach where he continued to laugh. “You’re a terrible friend.” 

“Ah, so you brought me out here to kill me! A veteran of war only to become a political target of the Blades in the end!” Shiro rolled into Kosmo and moaned dramatically. “How cruel!” 

“You’re ridiculous.” Keith turned back to the fish, hoping his laughter didn’t sound too nervous. He’d completely forgotten that getting close to Shiro had been a mission. Kolivan hadn’t checked up on him about it in movements, instead focusing Keith to work with Lotor on dispatching and creating missions for their members across the quadrant. He would end the mission the moment he got back, he promised himself. 

He’d been quiet too long, back turned to the threat, so he didn’t catch Shiro’s movement in time to stop Shiro from snatching him around the waist and wrestling him to the ground. “Try and get the jump on me now, assassin!” 

Keith squawked and swatted at Shiro, eventually shoving him off into the dirt. “Oh my god you’re twelve.” 

“Six, actually,” Shiro said. He sat up and dusted off what dirt he could. “In all seriousness, you think they’ll all make it?” 

“Probably, Allura and Lotor live their lives in circles of power, their weight of their responsibilities are insane, but Lance balances that for them. It’s like he grounds them and brings them back to reality from their… god have you ever been in a conversation with them without Lance? It’s mind-numbing.” Keith blinked, something Shiro said catching up with him. “You’re six?” 

Shiro grinned and went back to petting the wolf, who had skittered away from the ruckus. “Sure am. I was born on a leap year, so my actual birthday only comes once every four years on Earth. So while I look twenty-eight, I’m really only six.” 

“But… you still… that’s so stupid!” Keith tried the math over and over, and no matter how he looked at it, it was dumb. “Why would they let that happen?”

Shiro shook his head, that soft smile still plastered over his face. “You can’t exactly tell a baby when they want to be born, I just decided to come out that day. It’s okay, it’s just a joke, they still count me as twenty-eight on record.” 

“Oh.” Keith cleared his throat. “That’s good. Fish is done, by the way.” He pulled the spits, feeling embarrassed like he hadn’t been since high school on Earth when jokes like this always went over his head. He’d managed to avoid missing cues with Shiro so far, and having to miss one now when there was nowhere to run was mortifying. 

“Hey.” A strong hand fitted over his shoulder. “You okay?” 

No, he’d just made a fool out of himself in front of Shiro. Something that shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it felt like it in his thundering heart. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Clearly not.” Shiro didn’t let it go, following Keith and the fish to the table. “You can tell me, if I said something?” 

Keith sighed. “You didn’t. It’s dumb, but… I didn’t always get jokes when I lived on Earth and it was always weird when one went over my head. Like just now.” He slid the fish off the skewer and pulled the carving knife over. “It’s not you.”

“Keith.” Shiro’s voice was soft now, filled with that warmth that made people want to follow him to the ends of the universe. Keith watched him use it on friends and allies day in and day out, but it lit up his views when Shiro used it on him. “You’re a third culture kid, of course there’s stuff that doesn’t always hit right. You don’t have to worry about not getting a joke with me or anything, okay? I honestly didn’t notice.” 

Keith frowned and put down the half deboned fish. “You didn’t?” 

“No,” Shiro chuckled. “You don’t have leap years on Daibazaal, the question made sense.” 

“Oh.” Keith felt that flush creeping over his cheeks again and quickly focused on getting the spines out of the fish for eating. 

That soft smile never left Shiro’s face the whole time they ate and got ready for bed, like Keith was a scared animal he needed to prove his sincerity toward. Maybe he was. He’d spent his life on Earth othered by his heritage, and when he came to Daibazaal it had been more of the same. His father had always called him a wild thing, blasting through customs to do things his own way. Always fighting to be acknowledged as part of the people around him. And here was Shiro, smiling at him like it didn’t matter how Keith fit, just that Keith was Keith. 

He fell asleep that night with Kosmo at his back and Shiro to his front, sleeping soundly in his own cot. Keith wondered which culture was going to help him more while he fell for a friend. 

*

Unfamiliar birds cried overhead as the flock crossed the sky. Shiro looked up to watch them go in swathes of purple and gold, sweat dripping into his eyes. They’d been stalking through the brush for the better part of an hour now, moving slow so they could come up next to the herd and pick off an older _urtax_ , the half-hog, half-deer beast they were hunting. Keith had turned practically giddy when Shiro said he’d hunt with him. Apparently they’d be able to bring back enough meat for both of them for a week, and some to give Krolia and Kolivan on top. The trick wasn’t just taking one down, but picking the right male to kill. If you killed one of the young males, or an alpha, the herd dynamic could get damaged. Females and young were strictly off limits

Shiro had gotten the crash course in this while Keith geared them up over campfire coffee and bread and cheese breakfast. He would be holding the _in’zak_ , which was more or less a two prong spear to hold back the antlers or tusks, whichever were easier to lever against. While the male charged the spear holder, the partner hunter would mount the thing and cut its throat. All in all it was a complicated and bloody sounding process. Nothing like when Shiro had gone bow hunting with his friend’s family in the American midwest. 

Keith tapped his shoulder and pointed to their left. There was a large male there, snuffling in the dirt for something, his antlers were long and twisted with age. One of his tusks was shattered, the jagged edge scraping the ground as he rooted. Keith motioned further to the left and carefully crept that way, his footsteps silent in the tall grass. 

Shiro hefted the spear up and positioned it to lock with the _urtax_ ’s antlers. He counted a full minute to let Keith get into position and then whistled sharply to get the animal’s attention. 

The reaction was immediate, the animal reared and charged Shiro with speed he didn’t anticipate. He caught the antlers but slid back a few feet from the impact, digging his feet into the ground beneath him to hold against the _urtax_.

Keith came over the beast with an echoing snarl. He was a flurry of motion as the beast tried to buck Keith and Shiro at the same time. Keith was an incredible acrobat though, lithe and balanced on the thing’s spine, sword gleaming in the sunlight as he precisely wielded it. Cuts were slashed with precision, deftly like—like—

The sun blacked out in a split second, replaced by flashing red lights and too bright laser fire in front of his face. His face was on _fire_ and there was the smell of burnt flesh and blood and the Blade in front of him was going to get cut down and _Senda_ —

“Shiro!” 

He blinked, hard, but the haze wouldn’t leave despite the voice screaming for him. It sounded faraway, like it was underwater, but it was right there in his ear at the same time. And his face—no his _leg_?--had searing pain riding up and down it. There was snarling all around him and the sound of a fight, something small trying to take down something huge. 

A deep growl in Galran made Shiro cringe and close his eyes, the smell of laser smoke still thick in his nose. Something heavy and huge fell nearby, the ground shaking below Shiro’s hands clasped in the rough, tall grass—

Grass. There wasn’t grass on a Galra cruiser. 

“Shiro! Shiro hang on, I’m coming.”

That voice was right, that voice was there, but it was wrong too. Never his voice, just harsh questions and a tinny sound to it…

“Shiro, open your eyes. You’re all right, you’re safe.” 

The voice was closer now and Shiro chanced a look. There was a face pinched in fear and covered in blood hovering in front of his. A long, mussed braid fell over a shoulder and the blood on the man’s cheek, the cut from his… but no, it was just a smear. From the hulking, dead beast beside them. 

“Keith?” Shiro’s throat felt like jagged rocks, words dragged up and out of him by sheer will. “Keith what… what happened?” 

Keith looked terrified, his face pale under the gore. “Are you okay? Shiro I thought it—oh, _fuck_ , your leg.” 

Shiro looked, and found the source of the burning sensation that was taking up most of his brain function. There was a large gash curled over his left thigh, presumably from the _urtax_ laying dead with Keith’s blade sticking out of its neck. _Blade._ “Oh. Oh god, Keith, I think when your blade—”

“I know it was my blade,” Keith muttered darkly. “Shiro, are you back? Do you know where you are right now?”

“A… moon. We were hunting the… the thing over there and— _ah_!” His leg twinged and he grabbed at it, hands getting covered with blood when he did. 

Beside him Keith swore loudly in several languages. “We need to get that healed,” he said and whistled loudly. 

Kosmo appeared beside them in a burst of lite motes and ozone. Keith gave him a set of instructions in Galran that Shiro couldn’t catch and stood, one hand on Shiro’s shoulder, and the other touching the _urtax_ carcass. 

Teleporting felt awful on a sliced up leg and Shiro cried out when they landed. Keith was back over him in moments, ripping the pant leg away from the wound. “Just stay with me, Shiro,” he said, his voice calmer than it had been in the tall grass. He sent Kosmo away with another command and pressed his fingers around the swollen, red flesh. Shiro whimpered and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. 

Kosmo trotted back over, a first aid kit held delicately between his teeth. Keith ripped into it and fished out an emergency spray to disinfect wounds. He spritzed it over Shiro’s leg and Shiro nearly howled, clenching his teeth together. He hadn’t felt this shit in years, and the memories that came with it were not so different from the flashback he’d just left. 

“I know, I know, just try and bear with it, Shiro. I’ll go as quick as I can.” He shook the canister, priming it again and aimed it at Shiro’s leg. 

“What…” Shiro grunted and tried to pull his brain back together enough to form a sentence. “Why are you…you already sprayed it.”

Keith frowned at him for a moment and sprayed anyway, a cool sensation replacing the burn this time. “You always spray that twice, Shiro. First time disinfects, second time goes deeper and spreads the numbing agent.” He muttered something about Earth’s medical hang-ups and moved on to new bottles. 

Shiro couldn’t bring himself to tell Keith that it had been Galra only spraying it once on his arena wounds. He made himself stay silent as he watched the array of bottles and salves Keith used, recognizing only the ones that Keith used as perfunctory measures to the real healing aids. 

By the time Keith was finished the gash was shiny pink, a temporary artificial bio-mesh coating it and stemming the bleeding. There was drying, blue numbing gel all around it, slowly leeching out the inflammation. At some point the Wolf had curled up behind Shiro, letting him rest there against his chest. 

“I have to go butcher the _urtax_ ,” Keith said. He reached up and cupped Shiro’s face, brushing a soft thumb over his cheekbone. “Stay here and rest.” In the same moment he was gone, standing up with the first aid kit and walking out of Shiro’s line of sight. 

The heat from Keith’s palm lingered on his skin, a trail of fire left where his thumb had brushed. Shiro tried to suss out the meaning behind the action in his head, pulling at what he knew about Galran culture and touching, but his brain was mush. Adrenaline, anxiety, and pain made all thought disjointed and nonsensical. At his back Kosmo whined. 

“Right,” Shiro sighed. “Rest.” 

He dozed there in the sun, half-awake half-asleep thoughts rustling around in his head. He thought he dreamed of Keith on Sendak’s ship, covered in blood that dripped from his face and arm. But it was really just Keith walking through camp after butchering the _urtax_ , peeling off his only slightly bloody clothes until he was naked and wading into the river to wash. Shiro watched, eyes half lidded, and couldn’t find the coherency to be ashamed of staring at the pert ass that disappeared into the water. 

He fell asleep at some point. The warmth of the sun, the calming breath of the wolf, and his exhaustion from the panic attack taking him deep under. It was twilight when he woke, stars peeking out from the dusk in the sky. He was as warm as he had been that afternoon though, Kosmo a constant source of heat and Keith purring at his side—

Shiro’s eyes went wide and he glanced to his left. Keith was curled up into his side, head cushioned on his shoulder, fast asleep and purring. Locks of loose hair fell around his face, shifting bit with each puff of wait out of his parted lips. Shiro couldn’t begin to try and stop himself from brushing the soft locks back behind his ear. 

He’d had panic attacks before, with Adam, with friends. The result was always the same—just panicked friends looping into his panic and creating the need to ‘normalize’ as quickly as possible. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind once here with Keith. He’d only needed to focus on himself and what he was feeling. Shiro felt the urge to kiss the dark mass of hair beneath his cheek. 

His own wakefulness broke the spell, and Keith’s eyes fluttered open, endless violet nebulas hazy with sleep. Keith shut them again and pushed his face into Shiro’s shoulder, mumbling something in Galran. 

“We should probably start making dinner,” Shiro said carefully. “We skipped lunch.” 

Keith snorted and jerked back. “Fuck.” He groaned loudly and rubbed at his face with both hands. “Fuck, I fell asleep. Sorry, Shiro. I was checking on you and must have passed out.” 

“I was already well past that.” Shiro rolled his shoulders and shifted his leg. It was still numb, something he didn’t expect, and he tried not to think again on the type of care he’d previously gotten for injuries like these. “Don’t worry about it. I think that took a lot out of both of us.” 

Keith grunted. “How’s the leg?”

“Numb,” Shiro said. “Not sure I want to stand on it.”

“Don’t.” Keith pushed himself up and shook out his arms. “It’ll be another six varga before it’s fully healed. You want _urtax_ steaks or some of the leftover fish?” 

“Steak.” Blood loss required whatever level of iron might be in the _urtax_ meat. His pride required a piece of the animal that tried to gut him. “There anything I can do from down here?” 

“Sit and heal,” Keith said. “Can’t come back from a camping trip with an injured ambassador, can I?”

“Just tell them it was a hunting accident,” Shiro quipped. It took a moment for Keith to get the joke, but when he did he doubled over in a full on belly laugh. He kept giggling even while pulling out and preparing steaks. 

Shiro shifted around in the meantime, moving what he could to get out kinks in his neck and back that had formed while he dozed against Kosmo. Head tilted back, he got a view of the starts popping into sight above him, constellations he had yet to memorize forming and disappearing in his vision. “Do the Galra have a zodiac?” 

At the stone grill Keith hummed thoughtfully. “Not like symbols in the sky, no. I guess in the sense that they thought the formations they saw were signs from the gods. The bigger thing was which moon was brightest when you were born. Mom’s was this moon we’re on right now, actually. It makes her fierce but patient.” 

Shiro mulled it over. “That holds for what I know of Lady Krolia. I know she’s been incredibly patient with me.”

“You’re not her son.” It was said lightly, the sound of meat flipping on the grill keeping the mood around it light too. “She lost her patience with me _plenty_ of times. Hell, I’m pretty sure she wants to strangle some sense into me about this whole Kral Zera thing.”

Shiro opened his mouth to ask how that was going, but when he turned his head back down to look at Keith he saw how bunched up his shoulders were. His face was pinched, glaring at the steaks with too much venom to be about cooking. “What moon were you born under?” Shiro asked instead. 

Tension drained from Keith, almost completely. The frown turned into a wry smile and he glanced at Shiro as he answered, “Scorpio.” 

Shiro’s breath stuttered in his chest. Astrology had always been a fun hobby for him, seeing where it lined up with people born on Earth and where it didn’t as far as personalities went. Adam thought it was a stupid waste of time, and Shiro had stopped looking into it once that opinion had been stated loudly enough. It wasn’t worth the eye roll every time Adam saw Shiro curiously looking up their horoscopes. Back from the war and struggling with his PTSD, it had turned into a contention point, Adam worrying that Shiro would be taken in by a cult or something. 

“I’m Pieces.” And we’re one of the strongest compatibility matches there is, he didn’t say. But he wanted to. The little things that had added up to a spectacular crush on the weekdays was fast turning into something a little closer to irreversible emotions. 

Keith was oblivious to Shiro’s sudden and all-consuming turmoil. “That’s the fish one isn’t it? Fish and a scorpion, weird picture we make, huh?” 

“Yeah, funny,” Shiro said, heart up in his mouth. This was stupid, like Adam had said. Just because the stars were literally aligning didn’t mean anything about them as a couple. Which they would never be, because the Earth didn’t need another diplomatic romance scandal. 

Keith served them steak with a healthy pile of Galran pickles. They reminded Shiro of kimchi or tsukemono, but fermented for less time. Keith piled them onto the meat and ate them together in huge mouthfuls.

“I’m surprised at how tender the meat is,” Shiro said. For a wild animal, it was melting in his mouth like butter. 

Keith grinned around his mouthful. “There’s no predator here anymore for them, so they just get to lay around fat and lazy. We’re allowed to hunt a certain amount a year to keep the numbers down.” 

“I can’t believe they haven’t been domesticated for farming yet. Earth would have had them on every ranch in a matter of years.” 

“Breeding is difficult in captivity. Plus they’re a bitch to hunt, and Galra love a challenge, it’s half the joy of eating meat so good, knowing you fought for it.” Keith smiled to himself. “Sometimes Galra culture is hard, or harsh to others, but I like the honor in it, the inherent respect for overcoming.” He looked up at Shiro, eyes soft. “It’s why you were accepted as ambassador so quickly. As a veteran of the war you proved yourself to be a fighter, and to stand for what is right, no matter the cost.” 

“I wondered about that.” Shiro couldn’t bear to look at Keith with that admiration in his eyes. “My time in the war wasn’t as noble as rumors make it to be. I was just a guy trying to help bring the universe back together, like the rest of you.” 

The jovial mood was more or less ruined after that. Keith didn’t try to speak to lighten it, and Shiro was torn between being grateful and frustrated about it. Keith cleared dinner for both of them and set about shutting down camp for the night in silence, only the native insects and Kosmo’s breathing making any noise. Shiro resumed his observation of the heavens, recounting all they had taken and given to him in so many years. 

When Keith stood again next to him, he didn’t register what Keith was asking at first. 

“Teleport or carried,” Keith repeated. “Kosmo can do it, if you don’t want me to, but it might wreck the inside of the tent and we’d have to set it all up again.” 

“Oh,” Shiro caught up with what was being asked. “Oh, um. Carried then, I guess. But Keith I’m kinda heav—WHOA!” 

Without preamble Keith reached down and scooped Shiro up like he weighed absolutely nothing. Objectively Shiro had known Keith was strong enough to do this, but the utter _ease_ was astounding. And frankly sexy. 

Shiro was being princess-carried to bed by someone who was more or less an alien version of a prince. He couldn’t stop the blush on his cheeks if he tried. 

It got worse as Keith gently helped Shiro into his cot, taking special care to keep his leg from shifting too much. He was close enough that Shiro spent the entire ordeal trying not to inhale more of Keith. His warmth, the way he smelled like outdoor musk and everything Shiro wanted to bury himself in. But Keith pulled back, leaving him alone on the cot. 

“Keith.” Shiro grabbed his arm, feeling the muscles flex beneath smooth, soft skin. “Thank you.” 

Keith smiled, soft and warm, violet eyes shining. “Anytime, Shiro.” 

*

The stars visible through the open skylight in their tent offered no help to Keith like they usually did. Counting off their names, ticking off the ones he’d seen, the places he’d been, they always offered him peace of mind. Tonight they gave no comfort, only reminding him of the war that was seared across so many galaxies. 

Shiro’s flashback shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it felt like a punch to the gut. He was always calm, even when irritated he rarely lost his cool. He’d watched the man converse, with barely any snark, with Professor Slav, which was a grand feat of control. 

His scream when the _urtax_ charged wouldn’t leave Keith’s ears. The terror in his eyes was one Keith had only seen in a very specific group of survivors, but he should have recognized Shiro, if that were the case. 

He turned in his cot to watch Shiro, his face drawn tense in dreaming. For a moment Keith saw the face contorted in rage, covered in blood. He could practically see the white hot sword arm and gunmetal druid tech screaming toward him. He closed his eyes to the visions. When he opened them the image was gone, replaced with his Shiro, not the blood covered Campion from Sendak’s slave arena. 

The starlight hair was distinctive, and if Shiro had been there then Keith would know him. There was the chance that Sendak’s ship wasn’t the only one with a slave arena, but Keith would have heard about its liberation. If that was even the trauma Shiro had gone through. 

Galra fighting was brutal, and the war left its mark deep. Even now Shiro was mumbling in his sleep, the day clearly not ready to leave him be. Keith reached out without thought, taking his flesh hand and drawing it across the space between them, holding it to his chest, and purring. His father had always said it calmed him down after bad nights and worse fires, curled up in his mother’s arms. When he was old enough to understand why his Dad was sobbing into his mother’s chest he joined, caged him in warmth and affection. 

He couldn’t hold Shiro now, not as covertly as he had that afternoon, but he hoped this would be enough. It took several dobashes, but Shiro calmed. His brows relaxed and his breathing turned back to the deep, sound slumber. Keith put his hand back on his own cot, missing the contact already. Perhaps Lotor was not so far off the mark in his teasing as Keith thought. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute. 
> 
> -[Crack The Shutters, Snow Patrol](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhK81hZj4L4)

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Shiro’s leg healed up enough to continue on with their plans for fishing and hiking. They watched from a clifftop as _ivfara,_ tall, willowy, lizard-like creatures covered in feathers, raced across the grasslands. Shiro said they reminded him of a velociraptor and the fictional Chocobo all at once. 

“Those have been domesticated in places,” Keith said. “And we race with them.” The challenge went unsaid. 

“Well, I’ll just have to make sure to see some next time we come out.” He must have realized what he’d said a moment too late and hastily added, “if you want me to come back with you sometime, that is.” 

“I do,” Keith said, smiling up at a very flustered Shiro. Good, he thought, he wasn’t so alone in this attraction game then. 

They watched the _ivfara_ make their way across the expanse of the plains below before trekking back. The camp was already packed up, everything ready to go so they could take off and head back home. Keith felt like he was in a daze, loath to break the easiness that had grown between them while camping. Daibazaal meant going back to the fray of Kral Zera preparations and wedding frenzy. He already knew he’d have a mess of communications waiting for him from Blades, Nobles, and his mother when he opened his pad back up on the ship. He wanted none of it, just a few more days out here in solitude with Shiro. 

The path down to the ship was too short, the time it took to get there much less than it should have been in Keith’s mind. He put the ship through pre-check on autopilot, Shiro working silently and perfectly in sync with him. 

“Ready?” He asked, hand over the thruster. _I’m not,_ he wanted to say. _I want to keep you to myself just a little longer._

“When you are, Captain,” Shiro said, eyes crinkling at the edges. 

Keith eased the ship up and off the moon, hoping that his dismay over the end of their trip wasn’t apparent on his face. They rode in silence for most of the way, Keith focusing on getting them back to Daibazaal as fast at possible. If it was over he didn’t want to linger on the fantasy he was building in his head. 

“Hey,” Shiro said, his voice loud in the otherwise quiet cockpit. He cleared his throat. “I meant it, what I said the other day.” 

“Hmm?” Shiro had said a lot of things to him over the past few days. Most of them innocuous and utterly charming. 

“Thank you, for helping with the flashback. Most… most people in my life don’t know what to do when it happens. They freak out with me, or, or try to get me to calm down as fast as possible. You were patient, let me come out of it as I needed to. Thank you, for that, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” 

Keith steered them around an asteroid belt he would have raced through if he’d been in the mood. “Everyone processes at their own rate, in their own way. I used to get angry so easily as a kid on Earth, and now even on Daibazaal it frustrates me to no end when someone just won’t… anyway. Mom taught me to be patient with people, and with myself. You can’t force someone out of what they’re going through, what’s happening in their head. You just have to be patient and be there for them.” 

“Wow I… yeah. That’s… that’s very well-worded.” Shiro took a deep breath. “So thank you, again, for understanding that. It helped a lot.” 

Keith dared to look over into grey eyes filled with gratitude and open affection. “Of course,” he said, voice catching on the words. “Anytime, Shiro. Anytime.”

“So.” Shiro leaned back in his seat, arms folded behind his head. “Do you think the infamous trio eloped and caused us more headache?” 

“Oh god,” Keith groaned. “Why would you even _say_ that?” 

“I think Princess Allura would want to,” Shiro said with mirth. “Just get the whole thing done and shut her boys up.” 

“You can’t shut them up they feed off of each other like a…a…” 

“Gas fire?” 

“Yes!” Keith shouted and then shuddered in his seat. “I hate being in a room with both of them.”

“Lotor does like playing with Lance,” Shiro mused.

“Oh my god, _don’t_ say that. Please.” Keith slid down in his seat and did his best not to let his brain run away with that statement. “No, they better still be mired down in massive wedding plans and keeping focus off the Kral Zera, thank you very much.” 

“You’re still dreading it that much, huh?” Shiro’s tone turned easy, the teasing lilt gone from it. “There really isn’t any way for you to back down from it?” 

“No,” Keith said. “It would strip my family of rank and any ability we have to be in the government. I don’t like the idea of a giant leadership goal, but I don’t want to lose the ability to help where I can.” 

Shiro sighed and shook his head. “All because a hundred times great grandfather was Emperor once?” 

“Only four generations back, so not that long. In fact, did you know that it makes me an even _better_ candidate since my lineage is so close? Because blood ties always make a great leader.” That soundbite had been running on repeat the morning they left and he was scared to find what they had dug up about his ancestor in his absence. “I just want to get there, fight anyone that comes at me, and let someone else light the flame.” 

“I still can’t believe it boils down to an actual Battle Royale brawl to decide the new emperor,” Shiro said. “I get that you’ve got the vote beforehand and all of that to narrow it down to only truly acceptable candidates, but hand-to-hand combat?”

Keith shrugged. “How I’ve heard it from Lotor is that among those voted to actually go there’s a discussion about who won the popular vote, a possible a secret vote among the Elders, and from there is a carefully choreographed dance. No one will ever confirm that though so who knows.” 

“You could throw the election portion of this,” Shiro said. He followed up immediately with, “but I know you have too much honor and integrity for that.” 

Keith closed his mouth. That hadn’t been what he was going to say in protest, but it hit home. He couldn’t stomach the thought of just throwing the election now that he’d been chosen. He wasn’t going to throw his entire world into it, but he wasn’t going to half-ass it either, it wasn’t in him to just quit on something because he didn’t want it. “Maybe I’m too stubborn,” he said quietly. “Maybe I think sometimes about what good I could do from that position. But then I think about Zarkon not being able to stop Sendak as he fell into extremism, even though Sendak had been his _hal’xi_ , his partner-in-arms. I don’t know if I can handle that much weight on my shoulders.” 

Shiro was silent for a while. “People on Earth don’t understand how Zarkon let it happen, they don’t understand that it wasn’t a matter of letting or not letting. Galra bonds are hard for humans to understand completely, especially the platonic ones. I don’t even fully understand the in-arms one.”

“They’re someone you trust,” Keith said carefully. “Someone you know can be at your back without fail.” He swallowed around the lump in his through and took the dive. 

“I had one,” He said. He felt the tug still, just below his ribcage. “Or near to, we hadn’t gone through the full ceremony, but we’d decided to. His name was Regris, we trained as Blades together, did joint missions until I lost him in the war. I even as a half-Galra I can’t begin to explain the pain that you go through losing someone bonded to you. It’s like a light goes out inside of you, like you get an organ removed and you wake up with something _missing_.” Keith took a steadying breath. “He was on a solo mission for once, and I was healing from another battle when it happened. The hospital I was at thought I had gone into cardiac arrest.” 

“I’m so sorry Keith,” Shiro said. “I can’t even… god, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s all right. He died doing what he loved.” He could still feel Regris as his back when he fought, his quick reflexes and quicker tongue, snarking through a heated battle. “I can understand how hard it was for Zarkon to go against a bond. I know why he couldn’t kill Sendak.” 

Shiro grunted. “I’m just glad someone did.” 

Keith blinked and didn’t dare look at Shiro. If he didn’t know already, Keith didn’t want to give it away. It wasn’t something he was proud of, wasn’t something he wanted well known even though the Elders were hinting at leaking the information, wanting the public to know the full extent of why they chose him. “Yeah, at least we’re past that,” he said instead. 

“And on to wedding madness,” Shiro chuckled. “Ah, how the universe turns.” 

Talk turned to more benign topics from there, but the dull ache in his chest didn’t fade. It had been Pheobs since he lost Regris, but the space in his heart for bonds felt like it was raw and open all over again, emotion curling there like it hadn’t in years. 

Then Shiro laughed at something, the sound filling that space in as much as it filled the cockpit and Keith had to stop himself from jerking them off course. 

He was surprised to feel it, so fully, so suddenly, but it was there—the beginnings of a bond, stronger and fiercer than any he’d felt before. This wasn’t a bond of battle or camaraderie, it was more than that. Keith watched Shiro laugh, took in the crinkles around his eyes and the shape of his mouth curled in joy. This was a man he could trust, someone he _did_ trust, and that was breathing life into a part of him that had been in pain for so long. 

He guided them own through the atmosphere and along the fight paths into the city, the revelation heavy on his heart and mind. He needed to talk to Krolia once Shiro was safely dropped off. 

They parted with Keith only half paying attention, the rest of his mind buzzing with the new feelings starting to flood his system. 

“Are you all right?” Shiro asked, standing on the rooftop parking of his building. 

“Yeah, just being back and now distracted by all of the things I have to do,” he said. Such as letting my mother and commanding officer know I’m falling for my mark. Was Shiro still a mark, even? “Sorry, I’ll be back together tomorrow. Good for lunch?” 

“As long as I don’t get swept away by royals,” Shiro chuckled. He held an arm out and Keith went without hesitation, folding himself into Shiro’s embrace. 

“Have a good night, and thank you for coming, Shiro. I had a really good time.” He said it into Shiro’s chest, reluctant to pull away when he was done. 

“Me too,” Shiro said, his hand staying firmly on Keith’s shoulder. “I’m glad we did this. Fly safe.” 

“I will,” Keith said. He walked backwards up into his ship and stayed there as the door slid shut, his eyes on Shiro the whole time. 

He took off and flew home on autopilot, heart racing. The lot was mostly clear, though he did recognize Kolivan’s speeder parked among the other vehicles. Keith ignored that, and the fact that it rarely left that spot these days, and hustled to their suite. 

His mother opened the door before he could key in, eyes taking him in, ready for injury. “Did something happen?” Krolia asked, clearly itching to look him over herself. 

Keith shook his head and shouldered inside. “Yes, and no, not yet.” He chewed at his lip, fangs nearly worrying it bloody. “How did you know dad was…that you…”

Krolia’s eyes went wide. “Are you starting to bond with Shiro?” 

Keith swallowed. “Yes. I told him about Regris, and the ache came, but then it started to morph…it… it hurts, but it isn’t empty just—”

“—wanting.” Krolia closed her eyes. Sometimes it was easy to forget the heartache Krolia carried with her, but it was clear now in the lines on her face and the sheen in her eyes. She walked past him to the couch where Kolivan was sitting, eating off a plate and staring at the video screen playing the news. Krolia jerked her head at him. He looked between them, eyes narrowing in confusion before seeing how miserable Keith clearly was. He excused himself with his plate quickly. 

Krolia perched on the couch, mouth set in a thin line. “Sit down, Little Star.” 

The ache in his chest felt like it was clawing to get out now. He knew that it was just because it was new, changed from what he had felt before, but it itched behind his ribs and made him want to curl in bed. Instead he sat, rubbing over his collar bone. “Why does it have to be so…” he searched for the right word. “Physical? Biological? I never went though this with crushes back on Earth.” 

“You weren’t through your second puberty on Earth, Keith.” Krolia patted his knee. “I know this feels awful right now, burning in a way _hal’xi_ do not, but it will settle. And, if you continue to grow it with your partner it will feel good again, warm instead of burning.” 

“What if he doesn’t want it?” Keith whispered. The thought alone made his insides coil in pain. “What happens when the bond is rejected?” 

Krolia thought for a while, thumb smoothing over Keith’s knee as she did. “It will hurt,” she said. “But you will be able to temper it, to let it fade. It’s not so unlike losing someone suddenly. The bond will be incomplete and, in time, fade.” Her lips quirked to the side. “But I do not think that will happen, Little Star.” 

The sound of running water from the kitchen filled the silence between them, soothing and strange in the face of a conversation so serious. “When did it start to fade for you?” Keith asked. 

Krolia inhaled sharply through her nose. “Five years,” she said, voice hushed. “Nearly eight for it to… for me to feel _whole_ again. Even then there was an emptiness inside.”

“And now?” Keith very unsubtly shifted his gaze in the direction of the kitchen. 

Krolia tilted his face back to her with a finger. “We’re talking about your bonds, not mine.”

Keith smirked. “So there _is_ one?” 

Scowling, Krolia flicked his nose. Keith yelped and she stood, face calm and serene. “Just go with your gut, it’s never steered you wrong before.”

*

After returning from the camping trip, Shiro foolishly thought that things would get back to normal. Instead the easy routine he’d been curating was blasted open with Kral Zera news, wedding plans, and more formal dinners than Shiro ever wanted to deal with. 

He hosted at least six of them himself. Hunk, the engineer-cum-chef the Garrison sent over, was beside himself with glee over getting to curate intense menus for the various guests. Tonight had been no exception, Shiro hosting a long sought dinner for another Kral Zera candidate who hoped to win Shiro over with her policies. Hunk had made an intense seven course meal inspired by Shiro’s Japanese heritage and local Galran delicacies. Lady Acxa had thoroughly enjoyed it, and if it weren’t for Keith, might have had Shiro’s support in the upcoming bit for Emperor. 

Shiro had bid her farewell an hour before, and was pestering Hunk in the kitchen, picking off scraps to eat while he mused on the dinner. 

“So you like her?” Hunk asked while he packed up two lunches from the leftovers. Shiro tried not to dwell on the fact that he hadn’t asked for two—Hunk was making the other one for Keith automatically. 

“I do.If it doesn’t go to Lord Yorak I wouldn’t mind seeing her on the throne.” Shiro twirled a fried shiso leaf in his fingers. “Apparently the Elders are going to reveal extra details about why they chose each candidate later this week. It’s going to be chaos.” He tilted his head back and dangled the shiso above his mouth. “Almost makes me glad I’m going to miss it by being on Earth.” He dropped the leaf and crunched the morsel. 

“There isn’t any way to get out of the visit?” Hunk asked. Somehow Shiro had landed a chef that had been a cadet with both Lance _and_ Pidge, which meant none of Shiro’s life was secret to him. 

“No, it’s the Memorial,” Shiro said. He picked at another shiso leaf. “Face of the rebellion and all, gotta go.” 

Hunk grunted, the sound almost a growl. “I’ll have your favorite meals lined up for when you get back.” 

“I appreciate that, Hunk.” He picked at a few more things on the counter and stretched. “I’m going to head to bed, good work tonight.”

“Night, Shiro,” Hunk said, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease. Shiro reminded himself to give Hunk time off soon and line it up with Pidge’s time off so they could tinker in the lab they’d rented out together. 

He showered in a daze, mind running over some of the trade agreements Lady Acxa had proposed, so lost in thought he nearly missed the notifications on his pad. 

There were six, all from Keith. 

Shiro tried to quell the eager butterflies that stirred up at the sight, but it was fruitless. Each passing day proved harder and harder to stop where his heart was flinging itself. He opened the messages with a sigh, curling into his pillow like a twitter-pated teenager. 

_‘I’m going to kill Lance.’_

_‘He’s making me go with him to pick out wedding_ kathi _.’_

_‘I can’t pick out clothes, Shiro. I don’t understand fashion.’_

_‘He says it’s because fellow “Earth-boys” have to stick together.’_

_‘If I kill him will you grant me asylum in your guest room?’_

_‘Just LOOK at this!’_

The last message was followed by Lance holding up a horrifically lime green _kathi_ , eyebrows raised hopefully. In front of Lance was Keith’s hand, holding the middle finger up proudly. 

Shiro snorted. 

_‘Yeah, I don’t think that’s his color.’_

The response was immediate. 

_‘Where have you been? He dragged me to seven boutiques and we only bought one_ kathi _! One, Shiro. He has to wear five for all the ceremonies. FIVE. I’m going to fake my death and rejoin the Blades with under a new name and never take the mask off ever again.’_

_‘Don’t you dare. I can’t lose my lunch buddy—Matt and Pidge will gang up on me!’_

_‘You’re abandoning me for two moments to go to Earth, I’m not feeling sympathetic.’_

Shiro smiled and rolled over onto his back. _“Well, I’ll just have to give my stashes of good chocolate to Lady Axca, then, she was very interested in Earth culture and my impending visit.’_

_‘ACXA DRINKS DUXIRIN COLD AS A SHOT DON’T YOU DARE WASTE IT ON HER.’_

Shiro burst out laughing, actually rolling on his bed long enough that Keith had texted more once he was composed. 

_‘Shiro, please. I need good chocolate. I’m going to die if you don’t bring me back some, it’s the only thing that will get me through helping Lance.’_

_‘Shiirrroooo’_

Shiro started to type, but a picture came through of Keith staring into the camera and pouting, a very confused Kosmo hanging over his shoulder. He stared at it for longer than he should have before responding. 

_“Don’t bring your dog into this.’_

_‘Space Wolf, and he’s just reminding you who really deserves chocolate. And leftovers. Were there leftovers?’_

_‘There were leftovers. Not sure if you should get them but maybe if you bring me coffee tomorrow morning I’ll feel generous.’_

_‘I bring you coffee every morning, you extortionist.’_

_‘Uh oh, are you accusing me of abusing my position? That I’m making you keep me in coffee for favors?’_

_‘Shut up and go to bed, old man.’_

_‘You texted me, my Lord.’_

_‘You’re a terrible friend. I’m only putting in one rock of sugar.’_

_‘You absolute monster.’_

_‘You know it. Night Shiro.’_

_‘Night Keith.’_

Shiro scrolled through their conversation, warmth spreading through him as he did. He was going to seriously miss Keith while he was away, which was a very, very big problem. 

*

Keith was considering knocking Lance out cold and running for it. There was only one _kathi_ left to get, but it also was the most formal of them, requiring specific tailoring and embroidery. As such, Lance was being insanely picky about the base fabric. 

For the sixth time in as many dobashes Keith looked at his pad. Still no messages from Shiro. He’d gotten back three nights before, shooting Keith a text to let him know he’d landed and was going to try and work the next day, but nothing after that. He’d been in, but swamped with meetings so Keith hadn’t been able to even snag lunch with him, and any check-in messages he sent on day one were ignored. Keith didn’t try after that. 

“Oh my god,” Lance moaned. “You’re like a kicked puppy. Just go see him already! You're useless like this.” 

“I was useless before,” Keith grumbled. “And I’m not going to interrupt him. He’s been gone and I’m sure there’s a lot he needs to catch up on.” 

“No, he probably needs a break. The Memorial is a tough one for a lot of the survivors,” Lance said. 

“I still don’t understand why they needed Shiro to be there,” Keith protested. “He hated that he had to go, and he’s been silent since he got back. It clearly isn’t something he wants to be a part of so why make him?” 

Lance stared at him like his head was put on backwards. “Why _wouldn’t_ they want Shiro? 

“You can’t tell me that there aren’t other humans who fought in the war who could go to a memorial anniversary.” Keith was very tempted to get in contact with the organizers and give them a piece of his own ‘veteran’ mind. 

Lance set down his drink and turned to face Keith slowly. “Keith—”

“Still not okay with you doing that.”

“Yeah but I’m gonna be above you pretty soon so just deal okay? Keith,” Lance looked him dead in the eye and put a hand on his shoulder, making it even more uncomfortable for all parties involved. Maybe that was Lance’s goal. “I’m not going to disagree with you that it sucks, but think about it, _who else_ would they want to come and commemorate the Gladiator Rebellion? Shiro’s a fucking _hero_ , Keith; without him Sendak’s ship would probably still be out there.” 

Keith forgot about the fact that Lance was still touching him. “What?” 

“Shiro. The _Hero_. The entire reason that ship went down when the Blades attacked.” 

“What are you talking about, Lance?” 

“You—you’re serious. You don’t know?” 

He didn’t, but he didn’t want to say as much because what Lance was implying was slowly dawning on him. He could hear laser fire in the distance, and his shoulder burned under the weight of a Druid made claw. His cheek burned from a laser sword.

“Shiro was the one who started—Keith!”

“I have to go!” Keith backed up and tore from the room. 

It all made sense, now that Keith knew to look for it. His hair was a different color, and there was a scar over his nose instead of fresh blood covering nearly all of it, but Shiro looked so similar to the Champion. 

Gods, Keith was an idiot. 

If people were alarmed by him tearing through the Kral Verax he didn’t care. He needed to see Shiro, to confirm all of this. Because if Shiro had been the one to…

His office door was closed but Keith burst through anyway. A Count was there, speaking with Shiro, but he dismissed himself when he saw Keith standing in the doorway, chest heaving. When the door had closed behind him Keith stalked across the room to Shiro’s desk, where he sat, mouth gaping, in his chair. 

“Keith, what, did something happen—” 

“Did you start the gladiator uprising on Sendak’s ship?”

Shiro’s face fell, emotion draining from it in an instant. “Keith, I don’t know why you’re asking about that but--”

“Did you?” He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice. He _had_ to know.

Shiro leaned back in his chair, expression stoney. “Yes.” He reached for the button on the desk that locked his office door. “I was the one who started the uprising. I figured out how to override the code in my arm and killed the guards. I was going to get myself and the other prisoners out of there or die trying. I have no idea _why_ that warranted you barging in here and interrupting my meeting.”

“Thank you.” His voice was weak, shaking with emotion. Keith leaned forward to brace himself on the desk, not trusting his legs anymore. “Shiro, _thank you_.” 

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice softened a hair. “If this is some kind of guilt, or pity on your part for what happened, it was a long time ago. I’m all right now, and it isn’t something I like talking about, especially so close to… the rumors about what happened are bad enough but the actual battle on that ship was…”

“Brutal,” Keith rasped. “It was young and unseasoned prisoners being cut down when the practiced fighters couldn’t protect them in time. It was Blade operatives reacting to the chaos two seconds too late and scrambling to deactivate bombs set along the hull as the fighting spilled out, because they hadn’t known Sendak had kept prisoners.” He gulped, breath fast and sharp in his chest. “It was a young Blade, not really ready for the war he signed up for, nearly sliced in two by Sendak, and being saved by a gladiator who helped him fight through guards and sentries back to his comrades.”

Keith could still feel the bite of Sendak’s claw in his right shoulder, the sting of the gladiator’s—of _Shiro’s_ —laser sword against his cheek as Shiro tried to fight Sendak back. 

Shiro’s eyes widened and he looked at the scar running up Keith’s face, dark, neat, and the same shape as his sizzling arm blade. The parry had been quick, Shiro’s strength stopping the blow in its tracks. The shock of being denied the chance to slash a Blade in half had given Shiro the time to throw Sendak off Keith completely. 

“Your hair…and your face was all blood and…” Keith whispered. “I didn’t… but the scar over your nose… I should have realized sooner. Shiro, you _saved_ me.” 

Shiro was staring at Keith’s face, eyes tracking the scar without really seeing it. “I had been pinned down by sentries when a Blade member came through and took them all out,” he said as if in a daze, remembering. “Sendak came in while I was getting my bearings back and took the Blade by surprise. I had to help whoever it was that had unpinned me but I was just short of that outer claw. I… I thought I’d been too late, thought I’d slashed their face open, but the Blade stayed up and…” 

Keith sagged onto the desk, the urge to cry overwhelming him. In his veins the fledgling bond sang at the knowledge that this man had been the one to protect him in battle. He remembered every second of fighting, in sync with the Champion— _Shiro, it was Shiro_ — like no one since Regris. The arm had been Galran tech, laced with Druid magic. The shock when Keith used the opening to surge up and… “ _Gods,_ how did I not recognize you?” He put his face in his hands.

“My hair turned white from the Altean alchemy.” Shiro said. He spoke quietly, like he was afraid to raise his voice as he pieced it all together too. “I never knew who it was. You had your mask on. The sword only damaged half of it.” Shiro swallowed loudly. “You used the opening to duck away. Sendak started to go after me instead, he damaged the arm and you… you’d gotten up to a higher catwalk, so you could have the momentum to strike…Keith _you—_ ” 

Keith sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, cutting Shiro off. “I avoided all news after the battle. All reports and reporters. I told Kolivan I wanted none of it to get out, I didn’t want to be known as… as _that_.”

“Keith.” 

He looked up through his bangs, emotions and memories warring inside of him. 

Shiro was looking right into Keith’s eyes. “I was pinned. Sendak was preparing the final blow. I was going to die.” 

“I couldn’t let you die,” Keith breathed. “I saw the opening and I took it, that was all. You were the one who rushed in and saved me, Shiro—” 

“Keith, stop.” Shiro reached across the desk and curled his hands over Keith’s clenched fists. “We saved each other.” 

Keith didn’t care anymore, it didn’t matter how this looked or what Shiro would think. He pulled back and skirted around the desk, all but throwing himself in Shiro’s arms. He didn’t have to worry—Shiro caught him and pulled him close, the tight embrace almost crushing him. The first hiccup was almost violent, rocking Keith as it punched out of Shiro’s lungs. Keith pressed his hand against Shiro’s spine, feeling him shake and try to hold it in. How long had he been standing stoic? The Hero who had kicked off the final moments of the war. 

“It’s okay,” Keith said. “I know, Shiro, _I know_. It’s me. It’s just me.” As he whispered the words into Shiro’s neck, Shiro broke, dry sobs wracking his body until tears finally came. Keith held him through it, purring as loudly as he could to ease the pain. He missed when his own tears began, but they mixed there with Shiro’s on his shirt. Like their shared pain. Like their hearts. 

Some time later Keith emerged from the office, closing the door quietly behind him. He’d left Shiro sitting on the couch inside, wrapped in the blanket that was usually saved for Pidge. 

Keith didn’t expect Matt to be sitting at the desk, eyes glassy from crying. “Thank you,” he said and sniffed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in but I could kind of hear. He… he always acts so brave. He doesn’t want to burden anyone, is what he says. I don’t think he even let himself go like that with Adam.” 

The information made him ache. He wanted to run back into the room and hold Shiro all over again, but he had a mission. “I’m going to go get us some food,” Keith said, voice hoarse. “Can you cancel—”

“Already done,” Matt said. “And I’ll go get the food. Don’t leave him right now, please? I don’t think he should be alone right now, and I think you’re the only person he won’t push away.” He got up and left Keith standing there, leaving him no choice but to go back into Shiro’s office. 

“Hey,” Shiro said, his voice just as wrecked as Keith’s. “Forget something?” 

“Matt said he’d get us food,” Keith said carefully. 

It didn’t work, Shiro tensed and hung his head. “He heard, didn’t he?” 

Keith sat down next to Shiro, thighs touching on the small couch. “Is that so bad? He’s your friend, it’s okay for friends to know you’re hurting, Shiro.” 

Shiro smiled sadly. “You’re smart, you know that?” 

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I know.” He scooted back against the corner of the couch, letting his gut take over like his mother had advised. “Come here?” 

Shiro hesitated, looking at Keith’s open reclined posture and back at the floor several times before shifting and allowing himself to sink down into Keith’s arms. His face was tucked against Keith’s neck, the sight of his massive form curled on the couch over Keith almost comical. 

“Rest,” Keith said, letting his voice rumble with the purr in his chest. “Just rest, Shiro.” 

Things got better and worse after that. Work lunches became almost impossible so Keith was over all the time—for dinner, for a movie night, for avoiding his mother and Kolivan and all of the things he had to do. Shiro relished it, soaking up all the time he could with Keith, knowing that they would only get busier from there. Keith would be answering interview questions on policy that would be in statements and articles while Shiro drafted press releases for the upcoming wedding in the safety of his home and own head. 

Keith was over when the news broke about candidate updates, and his part in the war was stated in solemn terms, the battle brought down to one heroic moment. Shiro was glad his part was not mentioned, though he knew a vast majority of people could put two and two together. After the announcement Keith had leaned against him and pressed his face into Shiro’s neck, cursing as he hid. Shiro couldn’t do anything but curl an arm around him and assure him that it would all be all right. He didn’t see Keith for a week after, his popularity exploding with the public. Since that moment he’d held the polls over all the other candidates, to his chagrin and Shiro’s annoyance. 

He knew that it was a good thing, that Keith would be an excellent leader, but the amount of Keith’s time it took up irked him more than he wanted to admit. 

“Ambassador?” 

Shiro shook himself and returned to the present, where Princess Allura was reviewing with him the post-wedding visit to Earth. “Sorry, I was on another planet for a moment.” 

Allura smiled, knowing glint in her eye. “I don’t want to risk sounding like either of my fiances, but you seem to be gravitating to a _certain_ planet as of late, Shiro.” 

It wasn’t a baseless statement. “Is it that noticeable?” He hoped it wasn’t. Every conference call with Iverson and Sanda was tense and grating. They needed every detail of the affair and nuptials to pour over and carefully release to the public, both of them frowning at every mention that it was a union, equal, between the three parties. Earth was not as progressive as Shiro had once hoped. 

It only hurt more that each time they spoke, Iverson joked that he never wanted to see Shiro so much as glance at a Galran ass wrong. ‘I don’t want to have to do this _again_ ,’ he’d chuckle, and Shiro would wilt. 

“No,” Allura said. “It’s not that noticeable unless you know both of you, which I do.” She folded her hands on the table. “If I may be so bold, I’m certain it’s a mutual attraction, Shiro. I don’t think you need to be quite so concerned about how it’s coming across.” 

The table was made of smooth marble, and Shiro traced the crossing and curving black lines against the sheer white with his fingertip. “That’s not the concern, Princess. Our respective positions don’t afford a lot of room for dalliance without scorn.” 

Allura was thoughtful for a long moment. “Earth is not ready for another affair, is it?” 

“My superiors absolutely aren’t. A diplomat getting involved with a candidate for the throne will look distinctly poor for myself, Earth, and the whole system.” Marble lines were always so fluid, so graceful, even in the inevitable tangle of them, how they cut across another color without regard, like blood staining water. 

“Like you’re trying to ingratiate your planet…” Allura pulled her hands back and looked out the window. “You know, Shiro, Galran bonds are not something that can be faked, or forced. They are not easily made, and more Galra have enough self-preservation to know when the bond is… well it’s very difficult to make a false genuine bond. Lotor falling in love with me _and_ Lance is proof of that. It’s also why the Galran public, and Altea for that matter, didn’t question it.

“I know that the biology of it is tricky for humans, but it’s the truth. If there is something growing between you and Keith, it can be proven to be true. The Galra will not look poorly on you for courting him.” 

The marble swam in his vision. _Bond_. Keith could be forming a bond with him and Shiro would have to rebuff it. Panic welled in his chest. If his feelings were as mutual as Allura was saying, as Keith sometimes hinted at, then there was a new terrifying layer to the problem brewing for Shiro. “I didn’t…” He shook himself. “Never mind, it’s not coming to any sort of head soon, and we have to figure out the itinerary for the visit.”

“Shiro—“

“Please, Princess.” He hoped his face wasn’t betrayed how raw and open he felt. “I can’t dwell on it right now.”

“All right, Shiro.” 

The office was dark by the time he got back to it, Pidge and Matt long gone home. Shiro set his bag down by the desk and slumped into his chair, not bothering with any more light than the automatic desk lamp. There was a stack of papers that needed his approval and signature and several messages of the same variety waiting for him on his pad. He ignored all of them in favor of the sticky note with a poorly drawn smiley face on it and a scrawled ‘ _don’t work yourself into a coma! We’re getting Djirim tomorrow_ ’. He picked it up and caressed the edges of the letters with a fingertip, only noticing the small package of sweets it had concealed when he set the note down an embarrassing amount of time later. 

“Fuck,” he said into the quiet room. “Fuck!” 

He was in love with Keith. 

* 

There was a very good chance that Shiro had died at his desk. Keith was sure of it, no matter what his mother said to the contrary. He hadn’t heard from Shiro in three days, not even a message or joke like he usually sent Keith mid-meeting, and that was very concerning. He was never in his office when Keith came by, and when he tried to visit the apartment Shiro was hosting a dinner and he couldn’t even get into the building. 

Well, he could have, but breaking into a private dinner with the Olkari Ambassador was probably a bad idea and not a great impression to make on a potential mate. 

The idea still sent a thrill through Keith in a scary way. Shiro was clearly just as interested as he was, but that didn’t always mean the same thing across cultures or species. Shiro may have just thought of Keith as nice guy he’d bang on a lonely night, or Shiro might be madly in love with him. But there was no way to judge it beyond asking Shiro outright, and he wasn’t going to do that with everything else going on. 

Shiro was busy, Shiro was as swamped as Keith. 

Shiro was in his office, ignoring Keith’s knock. “Shiro, come on. I can _see_ you!” He tried the door and it swung open. A demand for where Shiro had been was on his tongue and died at the sight of Shiro slumped over his desk, asleep, and drooling onto a notebook. 

The flailing bond in Keith’s chest ballooned out into something he wouldn’t be able to ignore much longer. He walked to Shiro, unable to not trail a hand up his arm, rest it at the back of his warm neck and massage there. “Shiro, wake up,” he cooed, completely at the will of the warm beast in his chest. 

Shiro moaned and arched into Keith’s touch. The muscles under his hand were tense and he pressed his other hand to Shiro’s shoulder, massaging gently at the stiff muscles around his prosthesis connection. Shiro melted into the desk, a happy huff escaping his still parted lips. Keith’s insides _sang_ with pride, preening at the comfort he was providing. 

“Mph,” Shiro groaned. “God, don’t stop.” 

Keith chuckled. “I won’t.” 

Suddenly Shiro jerked up and away from Keith, nearly toppling his chair over. “Keith! What the--!” Shiro looked up at him, bewildered, eyes wide and nervous. 

Keith threw his hands up. “Sorry! I came in and tried to wake you up, but then I felt how tense you were and tried to get some knots out.” 

“Oh.” Shiro said. He swallowed tightly, braced in his chair like a caged animal. “Oh, right, sorry. What’s up?” 

Keith lifted an eyebrow. “You haven’t spoken in three days. I was making sure you were still alive.” He gestured at the small drool mark on the paper. “I think I came just in time.”

“Oh fuck! Come on,” Shiro whined. He took the paper up and examined the mark, frowning. “Right, maybe I have been burning it at both ends.” 

“It’s dinner,” Keith said. “Let’s get you out of here and into some food, yeah?” 

Shiro looked at the papers across his desk, the one in his had gripped tightly. “Keith… I’ve got a lot to get done here, that I clearly didn’t do earlier. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

The unsaid rejection was there, a new hesitancy. Keith shook it off—Shiro clearly needed a break, sudden awkwardness be damned. “I think if I leave and you don’t, you’re going to fall asleep on your damn desk again.” 

Shiro closed his eyes and slowly set the paper down. “You know,” he said at length, “I really fucking hate you being right so much.” 

“I know. Get your coat.” 

The restaurant was one of Keith’s favorites, mostly because it was a complete dive where no one gave a shit who you were. There were Earth pool tables, and Altean Carvart tables, and a bunch of other games for people to drunkenly bet on with their friends. The food was greasy and good, and the drinks were cheap but strong. Shiro was nursing a vodka and picking at _yutan_ fritters while Keith pretended to be interested in a sports television just behind his head so he could watch Shiro. He wasn’t as exhausted as Keith had assumed, but something was clearly bothering him more than work. He usually inhaled _yutan_ when they ordered it so he could get in two helpings. 

“Are you all right?” Keith asked, flicking his eyes from just at Shiro’s ear to his silver-grey eyes. 

A _yutan_ fritter was dangling halfway out of his mouth. He looked like he’d been caught red-handed sneaking candy out of the cupboard and had no idea what to do about it. 

“You’re jittery,” Keith said. “And really out of it. Is everything okay?” 

Shiro shoved the rest of the fritter into his mouth. “Yeah,” he said when he was done vigorously chewing. “Yeah Keith, I’m fine. Just tired.” 

Keith traced his finger around the rim of his glass. “Well, then maybe we should do something fun to loosen you up? Play a game of pool maybe? Line up some penally shots?” Keith smirked, glancing up at Shiro through his eyelashes in a way that usually ensured Shiro to say yes to whatever Keith had asked. 

Shiro swallowed, eyes wide, and then narrowed in challenge. “If you think that you can handle losing that badly.” 

Keith grinned. “Bring it, old man.” 

The ensuing rounds of pool did not provide Keith with any answers about what was bugging Shiro, but it did get Shiro to smile and relax, so he called it a win. By the fourth game they were both incredibly intoxicated and being nudged to get their bill by the bartender. He offered to call them a cab home, but they both declined, opting to walk instead. 

The night was cold, bracing to their flushed faces, but it brought clarity back to Keith. “You feeling better?” He asked, slinging an arm around Shiro’s waist to steady them both. 

“You always make me feel better,” Shiro said. 

“I’m glad,” Keith said, and tightened his grip. 

They stumbled to Shiro’s place first, closer, and Keith wanted to be sure Shiro got home okay—he needed to be sure, protective instincts kicking in. 

When reaching for the door Shiro fumbled and they went tripping into a wall, inadvertently backing Keith into it by his massive form. Shiro stared down at him, eyes wide and hazy with drink. 

“Hey big guy,” Keith huffed, smile plastered on his face. Shiro’s warmth was dripping down into his bones. 

“Keith,” Shiro rasped. His voice was low, so very low, and his face was so close. Getting closer. 

“Shiro?” Keith’s breath was up in his throat, nearly suffocating him. Shiro was getting closer, tilting into him like a comet falling to Earth. 

Shiro’s eyes shuttered just before touchdown, but Keith kept his open. Watched the way Shiro’s eyelids twitched, the way his eyebrows furrowed and scrunched in concentration, or confusion, he wasn’t sure. The moment Shiro’s lips brushed his everything exploded in a sea of stars, his own eyes shutting as he gave himself over to the sensation. 

It was soft. Hesitant and clumsy with drunkeness, eager with it too, teeth clacking at points, a game of chase and retreat as they found their rhythm. Shiro’s hands were warm on his hips, grounding while they kissed and kissed. 

Keith felt it everywhere, all the way into his marrow. The bond was nearly formed, solid and bright in his mind—this was a man he could stay with for the rest of his life, if he was allowed. 

Shiro pulled back, the pinched confused look still on his face, lips shiny with the evidence of what they’d been up to. 

“Keith?” His voice was still hoarse, barely above a whisper. “God, _Keith_.” 

“Hey,” Keith said. “You okay?”

“Drunk. Tired. I think… I think I need to head to bed,” he said, eyes glancing everywhere and landing over and over again on Keith’s mouth. 

“Mmm, I think you do too. Need help up there?” The purr in his voice was unstoppable. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, limned in rose gold. 

“No I think, I think I need to…” Shiro’s eyes caught and stayed on Keith’s lips, eventually tilting down to them for another kiss, this time open-mouthed and hungry. Keith submitted to it willingly. 

Again Shiro yanked back, like he had to be forced to. “Sorry. Fuck.” He shook his head. “Fuck, I’m drunk. Okay, okay I’m gonna go to bed. You, you should too.” He stepped back, surprisingly nimble for how he was talking. “Text-text me when you get back home, okay?” 

Keith smiled, unable to peel himself from the wall in his contentment. “I will, don’t get lost going up the elevator.’

“Yup. Nope I’ll—nope. Night—goodnight Keith.” Shiro backed his way into his building, slapping the hand scanner several times before it took and he stumbled backwards through the door. 

Keith got home after that, he wasn’t sure how, maybe floated, but Shiro had kissed him. Shiro had held him and kissed him, and nothing had ever felt better. 

* 

Something had crawled into his mouth and shit. Fuzzy, gross, mouth-drying shit. Light was trying to pierce his eyelids and somewhere a loud ringing sound was going off. Shiro turned over and pushed his face into the pillow, willing the pounding in his head to stop so that he could return to his previous state of almost dead. 

The headache persisted, as did the ringing. Functionality in his brain eventually returned enough for him to reach out and shut his alarm off, not caring if he hit snooze or stop. Slowly, in broken and painful pieces, the world came back to him. After days of trying to avoid, like a coward, Keith and that entire situation, Keith had barged in and dragged him out to dinner and drinks. Lots of drinks. 

They’d walked home together, arm in arm, and—

“Fuck.” His lungs were suddenly full of knives and butterflies all at once. He’d kissed Keith, which was amazing, but he’d kissed Keith, which was objectively the worst thing he could have done for them both. It had been wonderful. It was the kind of sloppy, stupid, romantic thing that would haunt him forever in sepia-tinged memory. 

“Fuck.” 

His alarm was going off again, shrill in his hungover and aching ears. He slapped around for it, eventually hitting the device and pulling it up to his face. There was the alarm, blaring happily away at him, alongside five other missed messages. One was from Matt, the other four from Keith. 

Shiro opened them hesitantly, reassuring himself that the ‘read’ notifications were off, and slowly scanned the text, his brain piecing each word together letter by letter. 

_Hey, I know that was… sudden, and that we weren’t exactly sober for it. But I meant it._

_I mean, I liked it._

_I mean… if you wanted something more I would too._

The last message was from this morning, much more careful, and nearly broke Shiro’s heart. 

_Hey, I know we were both drunk last night, like I said. But I want to talk about it, if that’s okay? I did mean everything I said, even if I was still drunk when I said it._

Shiro reread the texts as many times as he could bear before the alarm blared again and he turned it off, chucking his phone down onto the bed as he did. 

“Fuck.” 

Getting through the morning crowds to his office was hell, even with the pain meds coursing through his system. He needed coffee and infinitely more sleep than he had at the moment to face the day. He hadn’t texted Keith back, and he wasn’t sure that he could. 

Matt was waiting for him in the office, hands on his hips. “And where have you been mister! You missed a phone conference with Iverson.” 

“Shit,” Shiro mumbled, belatedly remembering he’d had a text from Matt too. “Tell him I’m under the weather.”

“I did, and he rescheduled for later this afternoon. He told me to tell you that you worked too hard, and if you were still feeling bad this afternoon text him—he’d rather sleep in that get up at two-thirty.” Matt took a long look at Shiro. “You look awful. What happened?”

“Shots,” Shiro groaned. “And Keith.”

Matt lit up like a stadium. “Keith? Did you finally do it? Did you get interspecies-al?” 

“That’s not a word, Matt. And no, we did not. I…” Shiro looked away, shame crawling up into his gut. “I kissed him.”

“Fucking finally! Pidge! Pidge, Shiro finally did it!” 

Pidge poked their head out, “He banged Keith?”

“No just kissed him, but I think that’ll change soon, eh? Eh?” Matt wiggled his eyebrows up and down. 

He needed new friends, better friends who wouldn’t make fun of his anguish. “It will not,” he said. “We can’t, you both know that. You’ve both been in on the conversations with the Garrison back home. Another dalliance like Lance had and we’ll be the laughingstock of the system.”

Pidge came fully out of their little office where they sorted through grants and proposals and treaties for Shiro. “I think you know that you won’t, and that if you were it wouldn’t be for long at all,” they said decisively. “You’re using that as an excuse, and that isn’t something you do, Shiro. Not unless you’re trying to get out of something.” 

“Hey, they’re right.” Matt walked around his desk and up to Shiro. “Come on, into your office. Intervention time.”

“Matt! What—no stop! Pidge get off me—hey!” He was deposited onto the couch by the pair, bouncing once with the force of it. 

“You swapped spit with Keith,” Matt said with a great air of authority. “This, my dear Shirogane, is a good thing.” 

“However,” Pidge picked up. “You are doing a splendid job of being a complete dweeb about it.”

“Therefore!” Matt raised his hand into the air importantly. “We are going to get to the bottom of your fears over intimacy with your hot alien stud muffin!”

“I do not have fears of intimacy!” Shiro protested. He tried to get up but was shoved back down by both of them. 

“You do.” 

“You always have.”

“Adam bitched about it all the time to me and the rest of our cohort.” 

“Our dad even brought it up.” 

“Spill,” they both said. 

Shiro shrank. This was not how he even remotely imagined having to deal with his mishap from the night before. “I do not have intimacy issues,” he said again, more quiet than before. “I have an issue with the fact that Iverson has threatened me from here to Andromeda about getting into a interplanetary relationship on the heels of the wedding circus.”

“Galra bond,” Pidge said, echoing Allura. “There is no way this could be spun in a negative light for us. In fact for Galra this is a _good_ thing—they’ll want you to stick around as Ambassador forever. Be a cultural liaison, who knows.” 

“And Iverson can be brought around,” Matt said. “You know that he can. Sanda is nearing retirement too, so whatever she says is a load of crap that can be ignored. We won’t have to deal with her soon.”

“And you’re both smarter than Lance and less distractible than Lotor,” Pidge said. “All stuff you’d have talked yourself into _if_ you weren’t avoiding Keith for other reasons. So—intimacy?”

“Why do you automatically go to that?” Shiro rubbed his face, trying to push feeling back into it that wasn’t pin-prickle pain. “Why are you doing this to me when I’m hungover? I’m not twenty anymore, Matt, I can’t take an exam on thermodynamics while recovering from a game of pool-shots anymore.” 

“You barely pulled off that,” Matt said. “And because you’re weak when hungover, it’s the perfect time to strike. Come on big guy, tell us what’s up?”

“I don’t know,” he said. It was the truth, too. In the back of his mind he’d known all of the counterarguments they’d used were right. If he really wanted to try with Keith, there would be ways to make it work. Keith _clearly_ wanted to try and make something work. Every time he thought about it his guts twisted up and he couldn’t do much more than think about everything crashing down around him. Again. 

“I wasn’t very good at it last time,” he said slowly. “I haven’t ever been good at talking about this stuff or… letting people in. For a long time I didn’t think I’d need to. Not for long.” 

Pidge made a confused noise. 

“Shiro had a disease, it was degenerative,” Matt informed them. “The Garrison, once he was up for being a top pilot, reached out to the different planets to see if anyone had any kind of cure or alternate medicine that could work on humans. Eventually they found something on Olkarion. Shiro got cured just before the war.” 

Shiro nodded. “I had always assumed that I’d die young.” 

“So you never thought you’d need to cultivate long term,” Pidge said. “Shiro, that’s not—”

“I know,” he said. “It’s what the trauma therapist said too once I got back from the war. But it’s a hard thing to turn off and…” he sighed and leaned his head back. “I don’t always know I’m doing it. When I got back from the War I couldn’t turn off the drive to _do_. It made Adam nuts. He wanted me to slow down, take stock of myself and take care of after what had happened. So I tried, and we got married and everything was good for a bit, but when one year was turning into two I couldn’t take it. So I reached out, took the fitness and mental tests, and the Garrison put me back on duty.

“Adam was furious, of course, but it was what I wanted, and he never stood in the way of my dreams. At least he hadn’t before…everything.” He closed his eyes. “I tried to work it out with him, but who I was just wasn’t who he wanted. I wasn’t who he thought I was.” He ran a hand up and down the prosthetic arm. “I think he thought that with the disease, or even with me coming back from what happened, that I’d settle down with him into something quiet.” 

“And you didn’t,” Matt said. “It’s not who you are, Shiro. That’s not your fault.” 

“Galra form bonds,” Shiro said, opening his eyes and glaring at the two of them. “What if he forms one with me, and I’m not what he wanted in the end after all, and he’s _stuck_. What then? After all the hoops we’ll already have to jump through?” All of the good feelings that were floating about in his guts vanished at the thought of being alone again, even if he was the one leaving. “He’s up for the Throne. I can’t just waltz into this and cross my fingers.” 

Matt dropped onto the couch next to Shiro, face set and serious. “I know, buddy, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening here. We’ve known each other for a long time—we started at the Garrison together, even though you outstripped me in everything, you overachiever. But I’d like to think I know you better than most. I saw you with Adam, and I see you now, with Keith, and it’s night and day, Shiro. You loved Adam, but I think you love _being_ with Keith.You laugh so much, and you play and goad each other on. And even though he’s reluctant about the Kral Zera—yes, we noticed, don’t look at me like that. You can’t keep things secret from us when you have lunch dates in here every day. But even then, you prop each other up. Push each other toward your goals, support each other. That wasn’t there with Adam, Shiro.”

“Lance sees the same thing in Keith, you know,” Pidge said. “Lotor picked up on it first, but Lance knows everything Lotor and Allura do. You’re good for each other.” 

The time he was with Adam hadn’t felt like this, they were right about that. He’d never felt more confident, more invigorated about life than he did now, with Keith. “I… I have to think about it still,” he said. “You’re both right, don’t get all up in arms just yet. I… I want this with Keith. I do, but I have to think about it.”

“Think quick,” Matt muttered. 

“Why?” 

“Because he’s here, with lunch.” 

Shiro lurched around and sure enough, there was a silhouette through the frosted glass that he’d know anywhere. Before he could try and make up an excuse, Pidge and Matt were out the door and shoving Keith through. He looked just as bad off as Shiro, bags under his eyes, hair escaping a quick braided bun that was listing to one side. He flinched hard when the other two slammed the door shut, and Shiro picture slapping it on both their meddling heads. 

“Hi,” he said, as softly as he could. “I’m sorry I hadn’t messaged back yet.” 

“Oh,” Keith said. His shoulders were hunched and his grip on the take-out bag was white-knuckled. “You saw them, then.” 

“I did.” Shiro watched him for a long moment—all the nerves and uncertainty he was feeling displayed openly on Keith. He patted the space next to him. “Sit down, Keith.” 

Keith sat, putting the bag of food on the floor between them. “I got the red meat ones,” he said. “They’re better for hangovers. I skipped the coffee though, my stomach can never handle coffee after drinking.” 

“I still have a good stash of green tea,” Shiro offered. 

Keith snorted. “Even after I was like a hyperactive toddler last time, you’re going to offer me more green tea?” 

“You look half dead,” Shiro said,” maybe this time it’ll even you out.”

“Doubt it.” Keith fidgeted in his seat. “So, last night… was that a fluke or did you mean it? Or am I just being too forward on all of this, because, Shiro, I meant what I said but if you’re not on the same page as me that’s not a big deal you know, I just wanted to know—I _need_ to know what you’re thinking right now, Shiro, because—“

“Keith.” Shiro put a finger to Keith’s lips. “Stop. It’s okay.” 

He smiled, he knew it was a tight one, and it didn’t calm Keith down at all. But he wasn’t sure where to go from here without fucking it up. _Fuck it_ , he thought, and said as much. 

Keith relaxed. “I don’t either,” he admitted. “I know you know about Galra relationships, how they usually have…” he cleared his throat. “How they usually go. It’s not something we can just hop into lightly.”

Shiro pulled his hand into his lap. “So you do then. You have a, there’s a—“

“Bond starting?” Keith shuddered and turned to look at the floor. “Yes.” 

That was what Shiro had expected, after the messages from the night before. It still twisted his insides in fear to think about Keith being tethered to him like that. “Can you stop it?” The words were out of him mouth before he could think, and he desperately wanted to drag them back. 

Keith flinched. “No,” he said. “And I don’t know that I’d want to, Shiro. I’m sorry, I know.. I know you’re not there with me but I can’t stop it now.” 

“No it’s not—I don’t not want you to I just, fuck, this is all coming out wrong.” Shiro took a deep breath and willed himself to look at Keith dead on. “I’m scared that, with a bond between us, the potential for either of us--but especially _you_ \--getting hurt, is too high.” 

Keith frowned. “Shiro, that’s my risk to take, not yours.” 

“I know that.” He reached out, completely unable not to with Keith looking at him like that, and brushed an errant strand of hair behind his ear. “I do, but it still makes me scared about what could happen. On top of all the other things making this hard to navigate.” 

Keith leaned into the touch, like he was starved for it. Maybe he was, and that sent a different sort of guilt striking through Shiro. 

“I’m scared too,” Keith said. He reached up to grasp Shiro’s wrist, long, cool fingers wrapping tightly around it. “But I don’t think I can just sit on it without doing something, anymore.”

“We’re going to have to be careful,” Shiro said. Again the words slipped out from his mouth before he could stop them, but this time he found he didn’t want to. It was harder to think of all the reasons to say no with Keith sitting here in front of him, warm and beautiful. “And slow, Keith, I’m not good at this. I’ve fucked it up before, badly, and I don’t want to have a repeat—“

“I know,” Keith said. And he did, Shiro realized. Keith probably knew as much if not more about what happened between him and Adam than Matt did. Shiro wondered when Keith had become his best friend and found that it didn’t matter, he just was. 

Keith rubbed his thumb over Shiro’s pulse point. “We can go slow,” he said. “I think we’ll have to anyway, with everything going on. But I want to try, Shiro. If you do too, I really want to try.” 

Shiro leaned forward, tipping Keith against him and holding him close, taking comfort in the lithe body pressed against his. It felt as right as it had last night, but this time the details were clear. The feeling of Keith breathing against his chest, his arms tight around his back. “I do too,” Shiro said. “I’m sorry I freaked out.” 

“I figured you might,” Keith said. “But it didn’t help that I was too. We’re okay?”

“Very okay,” Shiro chuckled. His stomach growled, filling up the silence in the space around them. “Well, hungry and okay. Can we eat? I just realized I haven’t since I woke up half dead this morning.”

Keith extracted himself from Shiro’s embrace and grabbed the bag. “God, yes.” 

* 

Leaving the office was hell. He wanted to stay there, lock the door, and kiss Shiro within an inch of his life. They’d said slow, though, and that included dialing it back from drunken make-out sessions, though Keith wasn’t sure why little pecks weren’t okay. But Shiro looked so shy when he requested that they slow down back to how they were before, Keith had no choice but to agree. 

Matt gave him a knowing look on the way out, which he ignored. He had Shiro now, everything out in the open between them, and they were going to try. There wasn’t much that could bring his day down now. 

Out in the elevator his data pad pinged with a message from Shiro. 

_‘So, are you my date now for the announcement ball?’_

Keith resisted banging his head on the elevator door. He’d completely forgotten that the ball was at the end of the movement. Visions of a brocade _kathi_ flew into his mind. 

There was no way he’d be able to see Shiro and get things more stable between them with that event coming up. He stepped off the elevator and tried not to tear the head off the first underling that spotted him and asked him to go see some other Lord about stupid things. 

He’d gained a massive amount of support after people found out it was the little half-human Lord who slew Sendak. Keith hated it. 

Lords and Ladies who had been dismissive of him before now sought him out constantly to find out his opinion on the most mundane of things. He nearly got put out of one meeting the day before because he let Lord Tkwyn know that he didn’t give a flying fuck about what kind of coffee shops were invading downtown spaces when there were people starving in the streets. 

Today Shiro had pointed out how, despite how convoluted the whole thing was, that the invasion of companies could affect local homeless populations and Keith was now dreading the apology letter he’d have to draft about the whole thing. He maintained that the Lord was honest to god bitching about brand, but Shiro had said that it would have been a good way to cut in about inequity in the city. 

This was why he loved that man—he knew how to navigate the whole political enterprise like a snake, waiting to strike and make the right moves in the right places. He would be a shrewd right hand as Emperor Consort, just as striking as a war-hardened Emperor—

Keith shook his head and nodded for the messenger kid to lead the way. He didn’t need to entertain ideas of Shiro ruling by his side. Not yet. 

He was right, and seeing Shiro was relegated to quick lunches or video calls when they could. Shiro was prepping for statements that Earth would make, along with receiving heads of state who had been invited to the ball. As an Imperial Candidate, Keith was being paraded along TV Shows and giving public congratulations for the trio. Lotor was almost always at his side, and if not Lotor it was his mother. 

“Aren’t you glad I made you take this assignment,” she purred one night when they were at a dinner with the Altean royalty. 

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Nothing is official.” 

Krolia snorted and stirred her drink. “Keep saying that, Little Star. It will be your mating ceremony soon enough.”

Keith reached across the table for another roll. “What if I wanted a Terran wedding… like you and dad?” 

Krolia didn’t take the bait, but her ears twitched. “Then we would have a Terran ceremony.”

“Unless I’m…” he couldn’t say it. Not out loud. “If it happens, then I don’t get any say in my wedding.” 

“No, not a lot at least. But it doesn’t mean we can’t have a private ceremony before the events kick into gear.” She took a sip of her drink. “Lotor and Allura did.” 

Keith went wide eyed and turned to his mother. “When?” He hadn’t heard any of this, not one peep, and he was sure Lance would have blathered about it if he knew. The man didn’t know how to shut up. 

“Before Sendak’s war,” Krolia said. “They’re going to perform one with Lance the morning of the ball, don’t worry. But with Sendak gaining power, they wanted to have that bond before anything could go awry.” 

Keith deflated. “Yes, that makes sense.” He tore at his roll, dipping it into the leftover sauce on his plate. “I’d want that,” he admitted quietly. 

“Then, if you need it, you shall have it Little Star.” 

Keith fidgeted in his _kathi._ Driving up to the Kral Xion with Krolia and Kovilan felt too much like another night that was ages ago, racing to meeting a man he didn’t want to have anything to do with. This time he was incandescent with anticipation—he hadn’t seen Shiro since they spoke last, and he was desperate to do so. 

“Stop pulling at it,” Krolia said, swatting his hand away from the fold. “It’s going to come apart.” 

“Keith.” 

He looked up at Kolivan’s serious tone, as unable to read the man’s stern expression as always. “Yeah?”

Kolivan smiled, just that bare pull of his lips upward. “You’ll be fine. You’ve chosen a good mate. Your father would doubtlessly be proud of you.” 

Keith ducked his head. “Thank you.” 

“I am too,” Kolivan continued. “I knew you would make a fine match with Shiro.”

Keith slowly looked back up. “You…”

“We’re here,” Krolia announced and ushered them out. 

The Kral Xion was a massive hall, the lights shining out from the high, stained glass windows casting the ground around them in a halo of rainbow light. They passed through a tight security team and were checked in by servants in rigid formal wear and nearly blank expressions. Professionalism through an onslaught of galactic celebrities. Keith craned his neck for any sign of a human, but saw nothing. 

“You’ll find him,” Krolia said. “Be patient.” 

The inside of the hall was bright with noise and light and music. Everywhere Keith looked there were flowers and food, each section of them representing each of the betrothed’s planets. Shiro had even had to loan out Hunk for the event so there could be an accurately made spread of Terran food. Keith noticed a platter of various fried chicken styles and raised an eyebrow. 

“Apparently we weren’t looking for elegant foods,” he said to his mother. 

She turned to look at where he was nodded and laughed. “I can’t say I’m upset about it. They wanted to showcase the best of Earth, and you can never go wrong with that.” 

Keith sniffed. “I would have preferred mashed potatoes.”

“You’re a snob about mashed potatoes and would have ruined the night if there was any,” she said. “Go get a drink and look for your man.” She pushed him away from her and into the crowd. 

Keith fumbled but managed to get to the bar with only a few derailing conversations. He wasn’t the center of attention here, and the realization let some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders. 

He ordered a simple whiskey on the rocks and sipped at it slowly, surveying the crowd. On a raised dais, Lotor, Allura, and Lance were accepting congratulations and gifts. Lance, loathe Keith was to admit it, looked very sharp in his teal _kathi_ with gold adornments. Lotor was next to him in the royal blues and grays. Allura was radiant in pastels, her white hair twisted into complex braids over the freefall cascade of it down her back. She was otherworldly, like an angel there with the two besotted men. She looked at them both with such open adoration Keith wondered if she realized the eyes of galaxies were on her. 

Maybe she did, and maybe she didn’t care at all. 

Keith turned from the sight back to the bar and felt his heart kick into overdrive. 

“Hello—no Duxirin tonight?” 

Keith nearly spit his whiskey out onto Shiro’s uniform. “Shiro! You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be one of the most skilled Blade operatives in decapheobs?” Shiro was so close, the heat from his body penetrating the _kathi_ layers Keith was swathed in. “Or was that all big talk to lure in an unsuspecting Terran? Trying to have your way with trade negotiations.” 

Keith pushed at him. “Hush, you.” Shiro laughed and Keith took the moment to hide his nerves in his whiskey. Shiro still didn’t know about _why_ they’d met in the first place, and for the first time in more movements than he could count, Keith thought about what would happen if Shiro knew. 

He should tell him, he thought. Soon. But not tonight when Shiro was looking at him with warmth and heat in his stare. When Shiro was in his dress blues making Keith weak in the knees. No one should ever look so good in gray lined with oranges, but Shiro was cut like a god and could make anything look good. 

“Your mother here?” Shiro asked, casting a glance around the room. 

“Somewhere,” Keith said. “Kolivan came with us.”

“Oh?” Shiro was keeping that slight distance between them and Keith wanted nothing more than to kill it. They’d talked about that, maintaining just a friendship in the public eye. Keith had thought it wouldn’t be that difficult, but his hand itched to reach out and touch the body next to his, just feel the warmth of Shiro under his hand. 

“Been here long?” Shiro asked, sipping at his own drink which wafted steam in his face. 

“Did you get Duxirin?” Keith rolled his eyes when all Shiro did in response was drink and take another long sip. “And no, not very. Maybe fifteen dobashes.” 

“Matt and I got here almost a varga ago,” Shiro said. “I had an interview with one of the news stations for our solar system. They wanted to know how the public here was taking the triad marriage.”

“What did you tell them?” Keith was starting to think he should have gone with Duxirin. This night was going to drag being too sober, and whiskey didn’t knock him out like it did in his rebellious teen years. 

“That the Galra were perfectly all right with it all given that Lotor had formed dual bonds, and that Alteans were generally accepting of polyamory.” Shiro turned to look at the trio, watching with keen eyes as Lance tried to hang onto the massive wooden carving they had just been given. Allura plucked it from him one-armed and he looked like he wanted to drop and kiss her feet. “I may or may not have heavily hinted that Earth was the only one of the directly involved planets freaking out.” 

“Good,” Keith said. “They need to figure out that the rest of us are completely fine with everything that’s going on. Even with Lance being a complete airhead.” 

“Be nice,” Shiro said. “He looks good though, nice work on that.” 

Keith shuddered, recalling all of the shopping trips. “Thanks, it wasn’t easy. He was obnoxious through the whole thing. He kept picking out the worst colors ever to try on. I swear he’d be up there in neon green if I hadn’t made the clerk hide the damn thing.” 

Shiro made a face and turned back to Keith. “Well done on that save then.” He looked around. “Had any of the food yet?” 

“No, but Hunk made an impressive amount of fried chicken over there, if you wanted something from Earth.” Keith nodded back in the direction of the terrifying spread. 

Shiro wrinkled his nose. “God, no. He was testing out the recipes on me. They’re all delicious if you want some, but I can’t do another piece of fried poultry, chicken or jakrat or flobalix.”

“He _fried_ flobalix?” Flobalix was a very gamey, very chewy bird that lived in the swamps on Diabazaal. Keith had never been a fan. “I don’t even want to know what he had to do to make that edible.” 

“Spice,” Shiro said with a haunted look. 

“What about the Altean table? It looked distinctly full of sweets,” he said. 

“That’s unlike you.” Shiro turned away to walk toward the table anyway. “What’s up with wanting sweets?” 

“There are bond cookies,” Keith said. “And they are fucking delicious and only for weddings. Come on.” He poked at Shiro’s back to get him moving faster since the cookies always ran out first at these things. 

They made the rounds of food tables, sampling what each world considered to be their best cuisine. Keith was dismayed that no version of djirim featured at the Galran tables, but Lotor was a picky bastard and had never been a fan of it. There was a skewer of _urtax_ though, which Shiro ate with a knowing grin. 

“That’s what sealed it for me,” he whispered low in Keith’s ear. “That weekend.’

Keith flushed and turned himself toward the table so only Shiro could see. “Me too,” he said. Shiro’s eyes flashed and Keith wondered if either of them would be able to keep to the agreement to ‘go slow’. If Shiro made any indication that he was all right with faster Keith was sure his own resolve was going to crumble. 

A slow tune started up and filled the room, slowly picking up in speed as it went. Couples were making their way out to the dance floor, including the trio themselves. Lotor kicked the dancing off, making a striking move at Lance that was parried by Allura. The crowd clapped wildly and Lance stepped in, striking at Allura and Lotor at once, cheers going up again all around. 

Shiro grabbed Keith’s hand and grinned maniacally. “Well?” 

“You’re insane,” Keith breathed, following the madman out. “I thought we were trying to keep it under wraps?”

“It’s just dancing,” Shiro said, weaving them expertly through crowds. “It was fine last time.” 

“Last time I got asked if we were together for two weeks straight after by about a million nobles!” Keith squawked. “Shiro!” 

They were on the dance floor, Shiro squaring them up and moving on Keith so quickly all Keith could do was react, blocking and bouncing back at Shiro in time with the beat. 

They rounded each other like they had that first night, but this time they knew how the other sparred. This time Keith knew how Shiro favored his prosthetic arm because he had too many memories of it activating in the arena, just like Shiro knew that Keith would feign moves to cover an attack from the open side. They whirled around each other, at times ducking and fighting between other couples as they went. Keith was barely cognizant of that, the only thing he knew was Shiro orbiting around him. 

The dance flew on, combat getting closer and closer until they were almost wrestling each other upright. Shiro spun them around and Keith was held by his arm, flung away by trapped by Shiro’s grip and stare. He smiled, and mouthed ‘trust me?’ to Keith. 

He did. He did to his bones. A short nod and he was pulled back in, twirling into Shiro’s embrace to be dipped back low to the floor. Gasps went up around the crowd, but Shiro was strong, keeping Keith level through the whole thing. 

“Sorry,” Shiro whispered, holding them there just above the floor. “Lotor was adamant that we kick it off and not them.” 

Keith was confused for only a bare moment before Shiro pulled him back up and broke into a furious waltz around the room. He caught sight of Lotor starting the same with Lance, who then spun away from Lotor to pull up Allura, the trio dancing around and with each other as they went. 

Keith laughed. He threw his head back and laughed, following Shiro along in the waltz, letting the music carry them across the dance floor as other Terrans, and some Alteans, took up the steps. He saw the faces of Galran nobility stare at him in shock, watching as he let it happen, let this man lead him and guide him. Keith didn’t care. He didn’t even try and trip Shiro into switching the lead. He was content here, twirling around the dance floor with the man he was falling in love with. 

The song lasted a grateful eternity, a lifetime close to Shiro, bodies colliding in time with the beat. He could smell his cologne, a little stronger tonight but not unpleasant, Keith wondered where Shiro had applied it when getting ready. Then he tried to recall just how many whiskeys he’d had and came up blank. The room was a blur of color and motion and Shiro. 

If he never came up from this moment he’d be all right with that. 

The song swelled to a crescendo and Shiro let Keith reel away from him again. Keith let the motion break, pulling on his Galran heritage, and crouched into a low stance. Shiro didn’t even raise an eyebrow, just waited as Keith wound up and launched at him. He ducked a high kick and swept under Keith, pressing the leg against his shoulder and spinning them around into a half dip, Keith’s body bend and pressed against his. Keith flung his arms around Shiro and let his leg slip into the crook of Shiro’s elbow, his face pressed to Shiro’s neck. The music flared and cut, cheers echoing around the room. He could hear bravos being shouted, most directed at Lotor and his paramours, but a few he heard for himself and Shiro. 

He stayed there, breathing Shiro in, not willing to let the moment go. They would wait, they would bide their time for public announcements and moving forward with the relationship, but right now there was nothing, _nothing_ , Keith wanted more than this man. 

* 

He wasn’t sure what had come over him. 

The entire day had been spent getting ready and preparing for a night of wanting Keith and keeping himself in check. The moment Keith had walked up to the bar that plan had been blown to smithereens. A week of talking, really talking, and admitting their mutual feelings had left Shiro raw and wanting. 

Once he wanted something, he was very bad at keeping himself from it. 

Each breath caught in his throat like an axe fall, slowly hacking away at any upright resolve he had to keep this moving slow let this thing between them be. Keith was panting against his neck, body taut, teeth grazing just barely against Shiro’s skin in what would be a filthy, open mouthed kiss if it hadn’t simply been where the spin landed Keith. But it wasn’t that simple, and the moment was stretching into something Shiro would rather die than walk away from. 

The music broke, a swell of sound coming up around them as dancers moved around the room. Shiro wasted little time, grabbing Keith by the wrist and navigating them through the throngs of people. He kept their pace even, bodies close enough that the grip on Keith’s wrist would likely go unnoticed, but under his fingertips Keith’s blood thundered. 

Shiro only stopped when they were at the entrance, twin moonlight spilling down over the stairs, streetlights making the scene warm with dark colors, hazy in the twilight glow. “Where?” Keith was so close he could track every millimeter Keith’s pupil’s contracted and expanded. 

“You’re closer,” Keith said, his voice barely above a rasp, a whisper of want lost on the night air. 

Shiro went, leading the way with Keith’s hand wrapped around his, where it had snuck to when Shiro wasn’t paying attention. Maybe he was paying too much attention. He couldn’t tell anymore with the alcohol and fire blazing through his veins. He moved in a haze, a push-pull against the body near his, crashing together for a brutal kiss before they hurried each other along. This late at night the streets were near empty, and Shiro couldn’t be bothered checking on who was witness to this fever dream. 

They reached his building, stumbling in and up the elevator all the way to his front door, Keith pressing them against it as Shiro pawed at his door lock, Keith pawing at his hips. The door hissed open and they tumbled inside. Keith’s long legs tripping over the entrance and Shiro’s ankles so Shiro did the only logical thing—haul Keith up by the thighs and pull him taught against his chest. 

“Shit!” Keith yelped, legs flailing for a second. 

“Hi,” Shiro said. He leaned forward and nipped at Keith’s lips, already red and kiss-swollen. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Shut up.” Keith surged up, gripping Shiro’s middle tight with his thighs, and kissed him soundly. 

Shiro wasn’t sure it if it was one long slow stumble to the bedroom, or if he actually did carry them there with the ease he felt. He tilted them onto the bed, trying to not break the heated kiss. Keith had other plans, the moment his legs hit the bed he pushed back and flipped them, landing Shiro flat on his back with a punched out wheeze. 

“Whoa.” Keith towered over him, _kathi_ askew, braid coming undone. His eyes were bright in the dark, shining more than the moons or city lights outside. He looked dangerous and beautiful. Shiro told him as much. 

Keith smiled and trailed his knuckles down Shiro’s chest, eye eagerly following its path. “You too. Let me?” His gaze flicked back up to catch Shiro’s, burning. 

“Let you what?”

“Take care of you.” 

It was a simple phrase, but it turned everything inside of Shiro molten, pulled his already aching cock to full attention. Keith was already plucking at the zippers of Shiro’s jacket. “Yes.” He reached up and anchored a hand in Keith’s hair, nearly sighing at finally having his fingers in that thick silk. “But you too.”

Keith pulled the zipper down and shoved the offending clothing off Shiro’s shoulders. “Okay.” 

Shiro sat up to shrug out of the jacket and pulled Keith to him, laying stinging bites and wet kisses along his jaw and neck. Keith wasted no time in getting rid of Shiro’s undershirt, yanking it up and off in a single motion. Keith’s clothing proved a bigger challenge but once Shiro found the start of the _kathi,_ the outfit unraveled in something like slow motion, each new piece he tugged at falling to reveal more of Keith until he knelt there naked on the bed, warm hand pushing Shiro back down to loom over him again. 

“I mean it,” he whispered. “Let me take care of you.” 

Shiro nodded, swallowing his nerves as Keith shimmed off his pants and underwear. “Okay.” He willed himself to relax, it was just sex. Just sex for the first time in more than a year with a man who ticked all of his boxes and then some. Just sex with Keith, who was so stunning Shiro could _cry_ and he was lifting one of Shiro’s legs, kissing the soft inner side of his knee, face broken open in ecstasy like Shiro was ambrosia and this was Keith’s first taste. 

Overwhelmed. Shiro was utterly overwhelmed. Each kiss on his chest and abdomen was like gold dropping down and spreading over his body. Sex wasn’t this magical, it was sweaty and messy and wetter than it had any right to be, but drink was hazing his perception. So was Keith, otherworldly as he was. 

Keith wasted no time in finding each thing that made Shiro tick. The sensitive spot on his collar bones, how he loved the feeling of a mouth on his chest, the way his abs jumped when Keith cupped his balls and licked into his belly button. Shiro feebly tried to get at Keith in the same way, but Keith was stronger here, knocking Shiro back with exquisite sensation. 

He wasn’t sure which one sent him more, Keith’s lips wrapping perfectly around his cock, or the unspoken question on Keith’s face when his long finger traced Shiro’s entrance. 

Shiro let him have all of it. 

There were locker room rumors about Galra. Shiro wasn’t too proud to admit he’d fantasized about said rumors. Looked up questionable videos that got wiped from his history. He was only a man, he had wants and needs and curiosities when alone in bed with his hands. 

He reached down to slick Keith’s cock and was not disappointed at all with what he found. _At. All._

“Holy shit,” he breathed. There were ridges. 

“Really?” Keith drawled, tugging his hand up Shiro’s cock. “Really? With this hiding in your pants?”

“I’m not ribbed,” Shiro whined. He was desperate for it at this point. The xenobiology only made it worse. 

“I’m not a fucking oak tree,” Keith mumbled. “God, if you weren’t already prepped.” 

“Next time,” Shiro promised. “I’ll fuck you next time, but Keith, _please_.” He pulled at Keith’s hips, his own shifting on the bed in anticipation. 

Keith pressed in slow, each inch making Shiro pant and whine. It felt like a fist after having not been fucked in so long, but god did it feel good. _Right_. 

Above him Keith’s face was scrunched in concentration, sweat beading his brow. One arm was still wrapped around Shiro’s knee, holding his leg up for the better angle. He pressed it almost to Shiro’s ear as he sank home. 

“Shit,” Shiro breathed. He shifted his hips, squeezing down just a bit and made them both gasp out loud. 

“Fuck,” Keith growled. He moved, and immediately winced, voice going weird. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

It sounded like there was something in his mouth. 

“Keith?” Shiro put a hand on Keith’s cheek to tilt his head back up. Keith resisted, keeping his face down, hair falling over it. “Keith what is it? What’s wrong.” 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry.” His voice still sounded strained. “It’ll be back to normal in a minute.”

Shiro’s gut clenched. “Back to normal?” 

Keith winced again, almost raising his head and then shaking it. “Shiro, please just… just give me a second.”

“Keith, if you can’t keep going its okay—”

“I can!” He cleared his throat. The hand on Shiro’s leg was shaking. “I can I just… I’m overwhelmed, that’s all. I need a minute to—ah fuck, ouch.” 

“Keith if you’re in pain—oh!” Keith had pulled his hips back and pushed back into Shiro, cock slamming into his insides. “Oh god. Okay, _fuck_.” 

Keith started a slow but punishing pace, focused entirely on keeping Shiro from enough coherency to ask again. Shiro couldn’t do much but lay there, mouth slack as he was fucked and fucked _well_. 

He nearly missed it, he was so blissed out, but pleasure won over control and Keith slipped, head inching up on a particularly good thrust. Even with his eyes half-lidded Shiro saw it. Bright, yellowed eyes, slitted irises, a fang popping out to bite at a lip. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “ _Keith._ ”

Keith’s eyes went wide and he stopped cold, face wiped of ecstasy. “Shiro—I—no it’s just—” He started to pull away. 

That just wouldn’t do. 

Up until then Shiro had been completely content to be passive, let himself be taken as Keith saw fit. Fear of rejection had no place here, and Shiro wasn’t about to let Keith think that would happen. 

He braced his feet on the bed and flipped them, losing Keith’s cock inside him, but only for as long as it took for him to get his bearings and sink back down on it to the hilt. 

Keith howled below him, hands flying to his hips. 

“There is no way,” Shiro panted. “That what’s happening—” fuck Keith felt so good like this, he was so _full_ of him, “—is not sexy, as fuck. Oh _god, Keith_!” 

Below him Keith growled, eyes going more feral, and his hips snapped up to meet Shiro. They became hellbent on ruining each other. Keith pushed up onto his knees to put Shiro solidly in his lap, thrusting and grinding, making a mess of Shiro. 

Shiro came when Keith wrapped a warm hand around him, pulling in time with the throbbing cock inside. Shiro stayed there, overstimulated and satisfied, squeezing in the afterglow as Keith chased his own release. 

Shiro tilted them down onto the bed when Keith was finished coming apart beneath him. They laid there, sticky and sated, staring into each other’s eyes. 

“Thought we were going to go slow,” Keith said. His lips were curled into a smirk. 

“Shut up,” Shiro said and buried his face in Keith’s shoulder. “You’re too pretty in a _kathi_.” 

“Oh? Please, give me more incentive to wear the damn things, because I hate them.” 

“No,” Shiro whined. Keith traced fingertips down his sides, touching sweetly. “Stop that, you’ll make me want to spill the beans.”

“Hmm, didn’t think of that,” Keith teased, fingers never stopping. 

“You’re a menace.” Shiro yawned and let himself sink into Keith’s embrace. 

“You like it,” Keith said. He kissed Shiro’s temple, then his nose. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Shiro asked sleepily. 

“Letting me have this.” 

The distinct scent of coffee woke him first. Then the sounds that came from the kitchenette followed, the clinking of a glass, the click of the coffee maker, a soft curse as something clattered on the counter. 

Shiro stretched and curled into the pillow under his head. It smelled different than normal, another smell mixing with his own on the bedding. He pressed into it, seeking that warm musk that sent a thrill through him. 

Keith. Keith had spent the night. It was Keith in his kitchen and it was Keith on his sheets and Keith who had been in his bed last night, taking him so sweetly apart he was breathless with it. 

The memories came back at once and he savored each one of them. He’d been sure he wanted to move slowly, but nothing could top what had happened the night before. If that meant not trying a repeat, Shiro was going to have to rethink the entire agreement. 

Hell he already was. 

Keith came into the room, heralded not by his footsteps but by the strong smell of coffee. The bed dipped with his weight and a soft kiss was pressed into Shiro’s shoulder blade. 

“You up?” Keith’s voice was a low gravel, rough against the soft morning in the most welcome way. 

“Mmm,” Shiro hummed. “Maybe. If I open my eyes does this excellent dream disappear?” 

Keith chuckled. “No, but be warned, it comes with serious bedhead. I think I’m going to have to have mom detangle the mess you made.” 

“I made?” Shiro turned over and looked up at Keith. His hair truly was a mess, but a gorgeous one. “I think you helped a bit, sir.” 

“Only a bit,” Keith said. He sipped at his coffee, eyes crinkled with mirth over the rim. “Do you have any work today?”

Shiro shook his head. 

“Me either.” A stray foot wormed its way under the sheets and stroked Shiro’s thigh. “Want to stay in bed all day?” 

“What will your mother say?” Shiro reached down and captured the foot, wrapping a hand around Keith’s ankle. 

“About damn time, more than likely. She’s been trying to get me to court you for ages,” Keith said. “She’s infuriatingly observant.” He let Shiro manhandle his leg until there was little else to do but set his coffee on the bedside table and crawl back under the sheets. 

“She’s all right with it then?” Shiro asked. He hadn’t noticed, but Keith was still naked. The thought of him rummaging around the kitchenette bare-assed sent a thrill through Shiro. This was the kind of morning he could get used to, the kind he wanted to. 

“Very,” Keith said. “She’s always liked you, not from, you know, but your policy and stuff. She’s over the moon about us dating.”

“You think anyone else noticed last night?” He couldn’t help the fear that crept into his voice. 

Keith shook his head. “Lotor and the others maybe, but not I don’t think anyone else would have. At least I don’t think it looked any different than when we try and get out of a meeting together.” 

“That’s usually not after heated dancing,” Shiro said. 

Keith still looked nonchalant. “We can blame it on Lotor wanting the spotlight back on them, it’s not like it’d be wrong. He sent me a huge glare after that last move you pulled.”

Shiro poked him in the side. “You started it.” 

“You did last time,” Keith said, burrowing down into the bed. “I was going to drink that coffee, you know.” 

Shiro rolled, pinning a warm and pliant Keith beneath his weight. “Mmm, later.” 

* 

Keeping their relationship under wraps wasn’t as hard as Shiro thought it would be. They were already used to hiding their feelings after months of apparently painful obvious pinning, so keeping that status quo was less of a challenge than Shiro thought. They agreed to keep everything under wraps until after the wedding and the Kral Zera—there was no need to have everything out in the open before it was necessary, or add to an already dramatic news cycle. 

Keith spent the night at Shiro’s when he was so exhausted he wanted to chuck the whole thing and run away. Shiro was regularly fed and watered now, with fresh coffee waiting for him more mornings than not. Kosmo helped in ferreting Keith in and out of the complex without suspicion. Not that he hadn’t already started to become a fixture of Shiro’s place before they were sharing a bed. 

The conversations with Iverson did not, in fact, get better, despite his increasing ability to know how to explain Galran courtship and couplings. His own press briefings though were getting better, and he thought that the reaction from Terrans were improving too with his succinct explanations. 

He was sitting with Lance, going over a joint teleconference they’d be speaking at about the upcoming ceremony itself, daydreaming about the dinner Keith promised he help make that night when they both dragged themselves back to Shiro’s. 

“I’m just glad it worked out between you two,” Lance said. “We were all—“

“We know, Lance.” Shiro said. He’d heard it from everyone that they were both in contact with for weeks at this point. 

“Well I mean, more myself and Lotor. He told me about why you guys met and all. He didn’t mean to, but pillow talk and booze you know?” Lance laughed to himself and turned back to the papers he was supposed to be memorizing for the conference. 

“Why we met?” Shiro frowned. “Like how we battled together on Sendak’s ship?”

“No I mean how he was tailing you at first for the Blades you know? To make sure you were a legit person for Daibazaal and all.” Lance said it nonchalantly, like everyone knew. Like it was a bygone issue, nothing to worry about, weathers nice today, isn’t it?

Shiro’s brain completely froze. “He was tailing me? But we met on the night of the Upper House reception. Was he… before then…?”

“No! At least I don’t think so. But he was told to get close to you for you know, checking that you were here for the right reasons. It got called off pretty quick and all but you know how that whole spy thing goes.” Lance finally looked dup from his papers at Shiro. “You okay man? You look like…” Lance went pale. “You didn’t know… did you?” 

Shiro felt everything crumbling out from beneath him. Every interaction flew through his mind with a giant, glaring question mark. Lance was saying something, rapidly speaking about god knew what, and Shiro heard none of it. 

“I have to go,” he said. He stumbled up and away from Lance, muttering something about sending him the notes later. Lance called after him but he ignored it. Everything inside of him was turning sour. 

He raced into his office suite and slammed the door behind him, praying it was only Matt and Pidge in. 

“Shiro?”

He turned and there was Keith, greasy bag of food in one hand, a midday coffee in the other, face split in concern. “What happened?” 

Shiro swallowed and pulled up his professional self, the walls slamming down over his heart and mind. He needed to be levelheaded now, or else things could go sideways with a very powerful, very prominent politician. 

“Office,” he said gruffly. Keith following him like a kicked puppy, completely unaware that his cover had been blown. If Lance was to be believed then the mission as over, and Keith was still here, a little voice inside of Shiro said. He still cared for Keith in every way that mattered, the voice said. Don’t be rash. 

Shiro was never good at listening to reason over emotion. 

The door clicked shut behind Keith and Shiro turned on him slowly, gathering his words carefully for efficient impact. “So. The mission?” 

Keith froze. “What mission?” If Shiro didn’t know every inch of that gorgeous face, he wouldn’t have seen the corner of Keith’s lip twitch up. He knew what Shiro was talking about, and he was going to play dumb. 

“The mission to trail me,” Shiro said evenly. “The one where you were vetting me for my position by getting close to me.” Keith went pale. Good. “Do I pass? Which test was the final one, where you were able to go from seeing me as a mark to a fuck?”

“ _Shiro_ ,” Keith hissed. “I… yes it was a mission at first but that ended almost as soon as it started, you have to believe me.” 

“Do I?” Shiro snarled. “Because right now there’s a lot I want to believe and not much I _can_. You want to explain any of this?” 

“Not right now,” Keith said evenly. “Not when you’re furious and not going to listen to anything I have to say anyway.”

“Who said I was furious?” Shiro said. He was, but it wasn’t Keith’s place to act like it wasn’t warranted. “I’d just like to finally know the truth.”

“You know the truth.” Keith put the bag down on the side table by the couch. “Look, we’ll talk when you’re calmed down, and I promise, I’ll explain everything, but right now I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere.” 

“We’re not going anywhere at all,” Shiro said. He heard himself say it like he was underwater—far away and removed from the words coming out of his mouth. “We’re over.”

“Shiro!” Keith finally cracked at that, angry and broken open. “Please, Shiro. Don’t do this, you know that I—“

“That you what? Lied? Used me? Very aware of that, Keith.” He turned around. “Please leave my office, Lord Yorak. I’ll have Holt send you and further correspondence or… items, you may have forgotten.” 

Behind him there was a slow, stuttering breath that filled the whole room. “Fuck you, Shiro.”

The door slammed, rattling on its hinges. Matt asked Keith something but there was no answer, just another slamming door. 

Shiro started down at his desk. His fists were clenched on top of it, luckily, if they had been around it his right hand would have broken the wood clean through. 

His heart was screaming at him to go after Keith and talk, demand explanations for what was going on between them but he couldn’t move from the spot, rooted in panic and anger. 

How could he have been so _stupid_. So blind in the face of something shiny and new. He took a calming breath and threw on his professional face, the same one he wore when he first came here. The same one he’d used after the divorce still stung in his chest. He’d be all right, he knew how to get through something like this, and everything would fall back into easy, lonely place. 

He walked back out to a shocked Matt and scared Pidge. 

“It’s fine, what’s next on the agenda?” 

*

The cool tile of the bathroom floor was the only thing he could feel, the rest of his body, his mind, his soul _ached_. Tears came and went like they hadn’t since he lost his father. His mother had come in to check on him, sat with him on the floor for a while before promising to come back with some food later. The platter of cheese and meat was just out of reach of his hand. If he stretched he could reach it but he didn’t want to. He hadn’t meant for it to happen like this, for everything to fall apart so spectacularly. Each misstep he made kept replaying in his mind, every line splashed in bold behind his eyelids. Did Shiro believe it was all a ruse now? Even the discovery of their shared past? Something dark coiled in his gut at the thought. 

He needed to get up, to get out and move forward. Staying on the floor would do nothing but prolong and exacerbate the pain. He reached out, fingertips skimming the edge of the bathmat and instead finding the edge of his pad. He pulled it toward his face, wondering if maybe, just maybe Shiro had finally responded to him. 

He hadn’t. There was a message waiting for him from Vrek though. 

_Got a crazy mission lined up. Even Kolivan is leery of me going out. Could use you on this one if your dick wasn’t tied up in trying to grace the throne._

Vrek had been sending him messages like that since Keith had been announced as a candidate. Goading, gloating, letting him know all the fun stuff he was missing. 

He pushed himself up off of the tiles and slowly typed out a response. 

*

The days began to blur. There were texts from Keith but he ignored them without even reading them. There was nothing Keith could say that Shiro would let himself fall for. Iverson was right, he was here on duty, not to play around with local pretty boys. Keith had been executing his mission, Shiro would execute his. There was no reason to needlessly open himself up to more heartbreak when there were more important things at hand than his lonely, broken heart. 

A hard silence from Keith followed the ignored messages. Lance tried talking to him several times, but he shut Lance down, once invoking the ire of Lotor. But even the Prince learned that Shiro was immovable once his mind was set, and it was. He wasn’t going to enter into a relationship that had started with a lie like that, something that could have been faked from the start. Keith was not fully Galra—how easy would it be for him to fake a bond? To say things and do things to convince others, he was trained for it, after all, as a Blade operative and a spy. Repeating this to himself didn’t stop the long nights from feeling longer than ever, or violet eyes from haunting his dreams. A little voice deep inside kept whispering about hearing Keith out, but Shiro shut it down. Life had taught him many times that for all the praise he earned, it did not mean happiness was owed to him. Best not to hope for it and be hurt, he thoguht. 

Lance eventually gave up, as did Matt and Pidge. Shiro assumed he’d heard the last of everything to do with the whole affair and turned himself completely to his work. 

“You’ve got a meeting, Shiro,” Pidge said, poking their head into his office. 

Shiro didn’t look up from the speech he needed to make the morning of the wedding. “Send them in.” 

It was a shock to see Lady Krolia sitting down in the seat across from him, when he did look up.

“Oh,” he said dumbly. “Um, sorry, I didn’t expect—“

“I know you didn’t,” she said smoothy. “I rather cut myself into your schedule with young Holt out there. Matthew, not Pidge. I don’t think you can intimidate the latter.”

“It’s very difficult to,” Shiro agreed. “What can I do for you, Lady Krolia?” 

“We’ve missed you at dinner,” she said. “I know you weren’t coming as much as when you were trying to get acclimated, but all the same, it was nice to see you.” 

“I,” he swallowed and did his best to keep his mask in place. “I did enjoy them very much.” 

“Would you no longer?” She looked down at her hands, examining the thick, clawed nails. 

“I don’t think it would be quite the same as before,” Shiro said cautiously. 

Across his desk Krolia delicately picked at the edge of her robes, an action that conveyed nerves for anyone but the woman in question. Shiro watched every move with an over analytical eye and waited. At length Krolia took a breath and spoke, her voice taut with emotion. 

“I owe you an apology, Ambassador.” 

Shiro had expected this to an extent, but not for it to kick off the conversation. He nodded but said nothing, he had nothing to say to that yet. 

“And perhaps,” she continued, “an explanation.”

“My son was, as I’m sure you know by now, taking increasingly dangerous missions with the Blades. To be fair to him, he is an excellent operative, a leader and strategist both with incredible skills in battle—be it piloting a ship or hand to hand. He is, by all accounts, a natural. But there is a duty on his shoulders to his people beyond his skills, one I neglected to prepare him for. As such, after he proved himself a worthy Galra, it fell on him to become a leader for his people, a path he never expected he’d have to take. I offered him the illusion of choice and, of course, he rebelled when it was ripped away. 

“You were a mission in order to transition him into his current role. Only that. Neither Kolivan nor I suspected you of anything. You are a well-known war hero and upstanding man, Ambassador. The mission was a ruse to let Keith see his worth here on the ground and out of the field. We felt that, given your shared past experiences that perhaps helping you would in turn help him. There was no mission beyond that, and we planned on revealing as much to you in due time. We didn’t anticipate how _well_ you would take to one another. 

“I know my son, Ambassador. Well enough to understand that you could have sparked interest in him, but that it would likely not extend beyond that. Keith has always held his heart close and people in his life far away, even I have a hard time telling what’s going on in his head. He does not warm up to people quickly either. Your relationship—please don’t make that face Ambassador, we both know that’s what it was.” 

Shiro closed his eyes and schooled his face back to neutral. 

Krolia went on. “Your relationship was a surprise. Kolivan and I went back and forth on telling you at all about the mission. But the hard decisions you were both facing were enough, and adding a dubious first meeting wasn’t going to help. 

“Keith had already let me know in no short terms that keeping information from him and manipulating you both, even with the best of intentions, was wrong. I am sorry, Shiro, and I hope you believe me when I say we did not intend to keep it from you forever.” 

Krolia closed her eyes and the mask fell, her posture going loose and defeated. Shiro didn’t realize that Krolia could drop her walls in such a way and was alarmed to see it. When she opened her eyes they were raw and pleading. “Everything between you that was a lie was ours, not Keith’s. My son is in love with you, Shiro, and I…” emotion choked her voice and slapped a hand over her mouth to contain it. “I do not want to see him lose someone precious, as I have, over the foolish meddling of a concerned parent.” 

“Krolia I—” 

The door to his office burst open, Kolivan stumbling through, wide-eyed and panting. 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Krolia said. “I was just telling Shiro everything.” 

“Krolia, he’s gone.” 

Krolia half stood in her chair to look at Kolivan. “What? Where?” 

“With Vrek, they… they went anyway. I just sent a ship after them but it might be too late.” 

Krolia swore loudly and stood up to pace the office. “You told him, _both_ of them—”

“I know, Krolia, I’ve done all I can. All we can do now is wait and hope.” 

“What,” Shiro said loudly, drawing the word out to get their attention, “are you talking about?” 

Kolivan seemed to only then realize that Shiro was there. His face morphed from panicked to furious in moments, mass of hulking Galra barging into his office and bearing down on him quickly. 

“ _You_ —”

“Kolivan!” Krolia threw herself at him. “This isn’t his fault and you know that. If anything it is _ours_.” 

Kolivan growled. He did not move from Krolia’s hold, and Shiro could see it was in deference to her, not that he agreed with what she had said. 

“Kolivan, this isn’t the time. _When_ did they leave?” 

“Eight, maybe ten, vargas ago,” Kolivan said. “I’m sorry, dear heart. There really is nothing more I can do.” 

Up to now, and he belatedly realized it was strange that he hadn’t, Shiro had never heard a Galra roar. He knew that they could, leftover biology allowing them the ability, but they rarely did. 

The sound Krolia made surpassed anything he thought it would sound like. It was fury and anguish rolled into one. She railed, claws piercing the chair beneath them. 

“Idiot boy!” she bellowed. 

Tense silence fell over the room. Dread began to quickly fill Shiro’s chest. 

He voiced the lone thought left circling through his mind. “Where’s Keith?” 

Krolia said nothing, she remained hunched over the chair, her breathing loud and painful. 

Kolivan spoke quietly when he finally found words. “On his way to die.” 

*

Of course it was a trap. 

Why else would Kolivan have back-burnered a mission to do with the trafficking ring. Had he been in his right mind Keith would have seen that, but he wanted something to take away the pain in his head and heart. 

He’d been mistaken to think that this pain, his side ripped open and head bashed, would take away the ache of losing Shiro. Instead it made it that much more acute, knowing that he would die out here without seeing him one last time. 

He tried to take a breath but it was bubbling in his throat, air barely coming in or out in his loud gasps. All around him sirens blared on the ship. The pirates that had laid in wait to take out him and Vrek were spilled across the floor in more blood than Keith was leaking, but one had still managed to hit the self-destruct protocol and smash the hell out of the control panel before Vrek took him down. 

Vrek was desperately trying to jack the remaining wiring on the panel but nothing was working. It didn’t help that he only had one working hand at the moment. Keith closed his eyes to the scene, instead playing the best memories of him and Shiro over in his head. Dancing together that first night with rose-colored glasses. Camping under the stars and making love for the first time. The way his face looked pressed into pillows in pastel morning light. 

He left the shrill alarm and Vrek’s frantic cries behind, pain making him black out, only the image of Shiro’s smiling face left in his mind. In the background, explosions began to go off as he drifted away. 

~

Keith opened his eyes to Shiro’s face pinched in concern. 

“What…” he tried to speak but the sound got caught in his throat and made him groan and shut his eyes again. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re okay, Keith.” 

Everything felt like it was on fire. 

“Shit, just, try and stay awake, okay? I’m going to go get your mom.” 

No, no, Shiro couldn’t leave. Keith was going to die and he’d never get to tell him. He mustered everything he could and grabbed at Shiro’s hand, real or not, life owed him this. 

“Shiro I l-love—” his voice broke, gave out and left him coughing painfully. 

“Keith stop, please, you have to stop talking. Just… just lie back, okay? I’ll be back with Krolia.” Shiro left then, his figure pacing away into the halo of light that surrounded him. 

“No…” Keith let his hand drop and he sank back into the darkness. 

He drifted. 

There were moments of pain beyond anything he’d ever felt. There was the dreamless dark that ended with a hiss and cold air rushing against his skin. There was soft light and worried faces swimming in front of his eyes, telling him they loved him. Begging him to come back to them. 

It was dark when he opened his eyes again. The room he was in was sterile, but warmly decorated. Private, from what he could see, a bathroom attached and a wardrobe cabinet set into the wall. The furnishings were wood, but the bed and the machines were crisp white. He was hooked into an IV drip and propped in a hospital bed. 

Keith groaned and raised a hand to his head. “What the fuck…”

There was the sound of something crashing to the ground and then there was a body just about crowded into him, over him, blocking out the minimal light. 

“Keith? Keith are you awake?” 

“Yes,” he rasped. “I don’t think I really want to be though.”

“No, no, Keith please stay awake this time. Please, please I can’t—we can’t wait again.”

“What are you talking about?” he pushed himself up, the other person thankfully retreating as he did. “Wait again for what?”

“For you to wake up, to stay up.” 

Keith’s eyes finally focused in completely and he registered who was sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“You look terrible,” he said bluntly. 

“Haven’t been sleeping,” Shiro said. He looked like he was hungover, or had been beaten up, or both. 

Keith didn’t think he looked much better, given their location. “What are you doing here. Fuck, what am _I_ doing here?” 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Shiro asked carefully. 

“You breaking my heart.” He watched Shiro flinch with some satisfaction. “I was upset and I thought you texted, but it was Vrek and... The mission was a trap…” It was coming to him slowly, in horrifying pieces. “There was an explosion and I couldn’t move because my side—” He looked down, ripping the hospital shirt up to look at his torso. The skin was patched there, dark with synthetic skin over what was a nauseatingly large wound. His head throbbed dully and he remembered getting brained pretty good by one of the pirates. But Vrek had… 

“Vrek! Where’s Vrek—” 

He didn’t register trying to get up out of bed, but Shiro’s large hands were on his shoulders, gentling him back down to the bed. “Vrek is fine, he grabbed you when the explosions started and threw you both off the ship. Between his jetpack and the blasts you got pushed far enough out to be all right, only minimal damage. Ilun’s team got there moments later. You’ve been in and out of stasis healing for a week, Keith.” 

The hissing sound and the quiet dark, that’s what that had been. “You were here,” he said slowly. “The first time, you were here.”

Shiro gave him a very wobbly smile. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“You hate me,” he said. “You made that pretty clear.” 

“I don’t,” Shiro whispered. “I hated that you hurt me. That you could—you _can_ —hurt me. I don’t think I’d be so upset if I didn’t…” he stopped to take a very shaky breath. “If I didn’t care about you so much.” 

“I should have told you,” Keith said. His lungs were starting to protest speaking, but if it kept Shiro here, he was going to. The ache was gone, with Shiro sitting right there, and he wanted it to stay that way for as long as he could. “I’m sorry, I should have—” he started coughing and it didn’t stop, his battered chest protesting all the talking he was suddenly doing. 

During his fit Krolia came in, swooping over to his other side and carefully rubbing his back as his body tried to reject all of his organs up through his throat. At least that’s what it felt like. 

“Oh my Little Star,” she said, holding him close. “My stupid Little Star.” 

“Love you too mom,” he gasped against her. She held him there so long he nearly fell asleep again. 

“I should head out.”

Keith jerked awake, hand reaching out automatically. “No, Shiro—”

Krolia pulled him back to the bed. Her face was serene but her voice was anything but when she said, “You should stay, Shiro.” 

Shiro stayed. 

He stayed there the rest of that night and most of the next day. He stayed through every break he could get, and every night he could spare as Keith fully recovered. He was there when Kolivan broke the news that Keith was being honorably discharged from active duty with the Blades, and there in the aftermath while Keith wailed in the most undignified way he could muster. 

Shiro had snuck in a giant back of _amartash_ for him that day. 

When he was released, Shiro was there with Kosmo to get him home. Shiro was outside of his building with coffee the first morning back to work. 

He didn’t tried to talk, not really. He let Keith talk plenty. The first few days he listened while Keith apologized and yelled at him in equal measure. He listened all day when Keith lost it about being dropped from active duty by the Blades. 

They both listened when the official story about what happened broke. Keith had been out flying with another Blade for pleasure and came across a fishy distress beacon. They’d gone to check on it and got caught up in crossfire. 

It wasn’t complete bullshit. 

Keith spent his first full day back fielding questions on the skirmish and how it was going to affect his candidacy. He assured the public he was back to full health and that the Kral Zera would not be a problem at all for him, should he earn the honor of fighting in it. 

There was warm _djirim_ on his desk when he got to his office, well past lunch. 

“He’s very bad at this,” Lotor said with his mouth in a thin line while Keith tore into the sandwich. “Bit oafish of him to just try and win you back over like this after his tantrum.” 

“He’s adorable.” Keith said around a mouthful. 

He went to Shiro’s apartment that night. Shiro was there at the door, like he knew Keith would come. Keith expected them to sit on a couch, to awkwardly talk and try and mend what was between them. 

He opened his mouth to try and do so, to gesture at the couch in question, and instead his hand grabbed the back of Shiro’s neck and dragged him down into a searing, biting, fight of a kiss. 

Shiro fucked him into the bed, twice, before they actually tried words again. 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro panted. “I overreacted and I’m sorry, but you should have said something sooner.”

“I know,” Keith said, trying to get his own breath back. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You said.” Shiro rolled over and yanked fistfuls of tissues out of the box. He cleaned Keith up with them as best he could and chucked the soiled mass into the bin next to the bed. “Hey.”

Keith turned. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Keith blinked. In his chest the bond stirred, ache easing away from longing into something warm again, something whole. “I love you too,” he whispered. He pushed Shiro over and kissed him, long and slow and with everything he hadn’t been able to in nearly a month. 

If anyone asked him the next day if he was recovered enough from the skirmish to work, he was going to have a hard time not referencing how _he_ fucked Shiro into the bed on their last round before passing out. 

* 

Galra wedding ceremonies were terrifying, Shiro had decided. He’d been aware of the varying ceremonies and blessings and celebrations, but the formal vying for Lotor’s hand by Allura and Lance against Zarkon and Honerva was _terrifying_. Keith explained several times that it was more of an act, a dance, than an actual fight. 

Shiro nodded along and kept his eyes on the nasty gash up Allura’s arm from Honerva. “Right babe, sure it is.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Will I have to fight Krolia?” 

“Maybe,” Keith said. “Or Kolivan, if they finally get their asses in gear.” 

“They won’t.” Shiro rubbed a hand up Keith’s back, enjoying the feel of _kathi_ folds under his fingers. He was going to enjoy unwrapping Keith when they got home. His new position as Imperial Counsel had put him in new styles of formalwear that did everything for Shiro’s dick. “They’re both too stubborn to change anything at this point.” 

“I’m going to unstubborn their asses here in a minute,” Keith growled. “I walked in on them the other day! They knew I was over and they just…” he gestured vaguely in front of himself scowling. 

Shiro snorted. “Your mom caught us the day after the Kral Zera when you were supposed to be recovering.” 

“Your dick has healing powers. I was taking my medicine,” Keith quipped. 

“Oh? Were you? Taking it right up your—”

“Shirogane!” 

Shiro turned around slowly, dreading this conversation more than he’d dreaded watching Keith leave for the Kral Zera a month back. 

Sanda stood there, hands on her hips, an apologetic Iverson stationed behind her. 

“Admiral,” Shiro replied evenly. Maybe he’d be lucky and she didn’t hear what he’d been saying to Keith. 

“I had thought that you were good at following orders, Captain, or rather _Ambassador_. I had thought that I had been very clear in stating that if you were to continue with this affair, that you were to be discreet about it?” Her voice rose with every passing sentence, almost squeaking in anger by the end. 

Keith was no help, hiding his giggles in Shiro’s shoulder. They should not have taken those shots before the ceremony, Shiro was liable to start giggling too. 

“It’s rude to not acknowledge lovers at a wedding,” he managed to say with a straight face. “There’s no paparazzi or any professional photography outside of the actually marrying parties. Open, safe space, if you will,” he said evenly. He almost pointed out that his new intern, now that Pidge was officially accepted to a University research team here, was getting quickly cozy with the new Empress-elect, but neither Veronica nor Acxa deserved that. 

Sanda’s face pinched horribly and she opened her mouth to retort. Iverson luckily cut her off. “He’s correct, Admiral Sanda. Heard from Holt before we left. This is a space where love is to be expressed in mutual celebration with the marriage party. I would assume, from our conversations, that enough guests know of your… relationship, that no display would look worse?”

“Inarguably,” Keith said, hanging almost obscenely off Shiro. He was enjoying this far too much. 

“This better not get out to the public,” Sanda growled and walked away. 

Iverson shot them both a quick wink and followed her. 

“At least one of them is on our side,” Shiro said, watching them go. 

Keith shrugged and nuzzled in more. “She’ll retire soon. And I outrank her in a million ways.”

“You’re not even on the same planetary system,” Shiro said. He turned them toward the long banquet tables laden with food, which they both clearly needed. 

“Doesn’t matter, I’m a Duke and a Counsel to the Empress, and-and something else I have to do and forgot about.” Keith frowned and looked down at his hand, like his two outstretched fingers would offer up what the third was supposed to represent. 

“And Senior Blade leader?” Shiro whispered into his ear. That title was secret to all but Shiro, Kolivan, Krolia, and Axca. The former royals also surely knew, but Shiro didn’t see any of them using that information for anything but fodder to tease Keith with, and even then it would only be Lotor. Maybe Lance. 

“Mm, yes, that. Is that chocolate cake?” 

Shiro was promptly abandoned by his boyfriend for massive slices of cake that Hunk had whipped up for the wedding. Shiro smiled, remembering making the request of Lance and Hunk when Lance had come over to sort out the Earth portion of the menu. 

He walked at a more sedate pace to the table, collecting food that wasn’t pure sugar. Keith was happily down the line picking out two very indulgent looking pieces of cake. 

It hadn’t been easy, trying to make it work between them. Shiro was still wary of relationships and the intensity of this one, but then Keith would laugh, or look at Shiro like he was the reason the stars shone at night, and he knew that it would be all right. He watched him now, bemused at his antics in trying to discern the best cake slices, and realized that Keith was the only place he ever wanted to be ever again. 

He loved him, that much he knew, but he wanted this with Keith. He wanted to fight Krolia for the right to her son and then watch him gorge himself on chocolate cake and bacon and _urtax_ steaks from beasts they brought down together. He wanted to be pounced on by an all-too-knowing space wolf, and be teased by interstellar royalty about his husband’s idiosyncrasies. 

Keith came back to him with his selected bounty and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shiro said, but his voice betrayed him, cracking with emotion. 

“Not nothing, what is it?” Despite full hands Keith crowded him back to their table and sat them down. “Shiro?”

“You know,” Shiro said, laughing to himself. “I think I accidentally proposed earlier and neither of us noticed it.”

“You what? When? What are you…” Keith’s eyes went wide. “‘Will I have to fight your mom’?” 

“Yeah, I mean. It just kind of slipped out, didn’t it? But we didn’t, neither of us even noticed…”

“That you implied we’d get married one day,” Keith finished. He looked away and fiddled with the silverware on the table. “I want to.” He said simply. 

“Me too,” Shiro said. 

Keith smiled, and in true Keith fashion, swept up and kissed Shiro, impulsive and hard. Shiro melted into it, like he always did. 

“You get to tell Sanda,” he said against Keith’s smiling lips. 

Keith just kissed him harder.


End file.
